The new kid on the block
by itsravensfault
Summary: John goes to a will reading from an old girlfriend and finds out he has a child. Sherlock/John Sorry the summary stinks I really am but the storys better hopefully I hope
1. Chapter 1

**As the summary says this is about John coming home with a youngster. Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes in any which way shape of form. Um…Hope you like it **

Sherlock Holmes plopped another finger onto a small tray and injected it full of some substance that was unknown to the normal person but Sherlock wasn't a normal person and his partner in both crime and the bedroom was out listening to a will that was written by an old girlfriend he had about six years ago.

That was seven hours and he should be home very soon as long as he left right after. But that didn't matter right now because he was seeing how long it would take for flesh to deteriorate from the poison he injected into them.

John Watson sighed clenching and unclenching his hands and glanced over at the sleeping child that sat next to him in the cab. He couldn't believe what just happened. He went to the lawyers' office feeling extremely uncomfortable because he was the only person not crying. Then he heard something he thought he would never hear, he heard he would be taking home the same child that was sleeping next to him because apparently they had a child together and John left before she knew she was pregnant.

They arrived at 221 B Baker Street after the long ride and John was about to wake up the boy but decided against it and leaned across the seat and unbuckled him. He paid the cabbie and picked up the small boy's bag and then the slid the child over and lifted him out of the cab. He walked into the familiar hallway and paused. 'What about Sherlock?' He asked himself worry over what the sociopath would say to him just walking in with a child in his arms. He would never want to have a kid around. The way they get in the way, how they always talk which could be very bad around Sherlock when he's in one of his moods.

"John can you grab me my phone?" Sherlock yelled from upstairs knowing John was home.

John was about to yell back but the kid in his arms started to squirm. "Are we there yet?" He asked lifting his head from John's shoulder.

"Yeah," John answered quietly climbing the stairs. He was about to open the door when it was opened for him.

"What's taking you so long J-. " Sherlock stopped himself when he saw the boy in John's arms. "What did you do?"

"Come on it's not like you already haven't deduced it yet," John stated.

Sherlock nodded knowing full well what happened. "You had a child with her but didn't know about him and when she died she named you legal guardian and now here he is," Sherlock looked the boy up and down.

"I'm sorry Sherlock but I can't just leave him. I can get Mrs. Hudson to watch him when I go to work and also when we go to work on a case so he won't bother you," John said quickly putting the child down.

"Very well," Sherlock said still not looking away from the child.

John nodded and was ready to turn around to leave and talk with their landlord. "No experiments," He ran down the stairs.

Sherlock knelt down in front of the boy scaring him a little. "What's your name boy?" Sherlock asked sharply.

The small child hesitated but then answered with confidence and said, "Lucian Watson."

"Age?" Sherlock demanded.

"Five almost six." Lucian said proudly. "What's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock answered swiftly. "Do you know John is your father?"

Lucian nodded smiling but it soon dropped. "Mummy said I would go to him when she died," he stated trying not to cry…again. "She said he is nice." Sherlock nodded and stood full height and stalked into the kitchen to his fingers.

John came back into the room noticing Sherlock was no longer near Lucian. "So Lucian what do you want to do?"

Lucian looked around. "Do you have a telly?"

John's face fell. They just lost their television when Sherlock got bored and started shooting holes into the wall again and missed. "Not at the moment no," John frowned when he saw Lucian's face fall and started crying. He got down on his knees and pulled him into a hug. "Shh, don't cry we can do something else beside watch the telly. How about I read you a book?" John asked hoping he would agree and to his relief he did. Then he remembered they didn't have any kid books. He lifted Lucian up and placed him on the couch. He started searching for a suitable book.

John was unaware of Sherlock's gaze following his every move. He walked in from the kitchen and over to the book shelf. He plucked a book out with ease and handed it to John with a small smile. "Try this one."

John looked at the title, The Adventures of the Crew; it was one of his of course. He shrugged his shoulders he figured it would be the closest book they had that would be interesting to a five year old. He sat himself next to Lucian on the couch. "Alright let's begin shall we."

After an hour of reading Lucian fell asleep curled up into John's side hugging his jumper. "Hey Sherlock?"

"Yes John?" Sherlock asked sipping his coffee.

"Are you alright with him being here?" John asked. Sherlock lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading and looked at john. John's palms got really sweaty and he tried wiping them off in his pants. "I mean if you're not I'll move out."

It was Sherlock's turn to get nervous. He didn't want John to leave even if he didn't want to have a kid running around. "I'm fine with it John as long as he doesn't disturb me while I'm working."

"Are you sure?" John asked not believing him.

Sherlock stood from his seat and glided over to John sat next to him and slid his arm over his shoulders. "I'll deal," Sherlock assured him. "The others will be surprise to hear about it." Sherlock took and glance at Lucian.

"Him Sherlock not it," John corrected him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and jumped up. "I have to go tell Lestrade who killed Mr. Hoth. Don't wait up," He yelled while walking down the stairs. John sighed and carried Lucian up to Sherlock and his room sp he could sleep better.

Sherlock climbed into the cab and gave off the address for Scotland Yard. When he got there he walked right past Donavan ignoring the 'hey freak' she gave him and into Lestrade's office. "It wasn't the blow to the head that killed him it was the poison that was injected through his fingers that did it."

Lestrade looked up from the file on the case that Sherlock was talking about. "How do you know that?" He asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "Think! Why would someone bash somebody's head in then inject them with a deadly poison after they were dead? No it makes more sense the other way around plus it gives us an answer to who killed him."

Lestrade tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms. "Who did it then?"

"His sister!" Sherlock stated. He was watching as Lestrade still didn't get it. 'Idiot' he thought. "He and his sister never got along. Plus their mother was sick and in her will it say who ever the oldest is gets all of her money. Mr. Hoth being the oldest he was going to very rich very soon. The sister got jealous so she decided to kill him. She is a doctor so she has an unlimited supply of drugs, which at the wrong amounts could kill anyone, available. She stole some from her office and brought it over to her brother's house and killed him in his sleep. She thought it all out she would inject him then bash his head in to throw us off," Sherlock waited for a reaction, upon getting none he continued. "If you check underneath the bathroom sink you'll find the drug, she may be a doctor but she isn't smart enough to depose the drugs.

"How do you know the drugs are under the sink?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock looked at him then answered, "The way she walked."

Lestrade nodded like he should have known that. "When did you find this out?"

"This morning," Sherlock stated. "I needed to do some things before I came here to make sure the fingers would have fallen apart before the blow to the head was given."

"Alright," Lestrade said having enough information to go on and raced out of the room.

Sherlock followed but slower knowing where he was going now. He was going shopping for the child that was now living with John and him. He was doing this because it would be a distraction later on when things were happening and he couldn't have that, he wasn't doing this for Lucian at all.

John glanced at the clock, Sherlock left at seven and now it was ten. 'Where the heck did he go?' he asked himself. 'It can't three hours to tell Lestrade that it was his sister who did it, could it?' John heard the explanation this morning when Sherlock burst into the bedroom shouting how stupid they were for not noticing it. John suddenly realized he was very tire and curled up on the couch and went to sleep not bothering to change.

Sherlock walked into the living room of their flat and placed the bags that had some clothes and toys he figured would keep the boy busy and not constantly in their way. He noted John asleep on the couch which meant Lucian was asleep in their room. He walked pasted John placing a blanket over his shoulders and into the kitchen.

John cleaned up earlier and moved his fingers to a counter and not on the table probably to eat something without severed limbs in his face. Sherlock smiled and shook his head and walked back out to the living room and sat in his chair, grabbing John's laptop and easily getting past his password protection.

**First chapter down next one hopefully soon especially if you guys like it. Please review but if you don't want to you don't have to. BYE!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay before I start I want to thank everyone who reviewed…um…if I don't reply it's nothing against you but when I read them I got really scared, don't ask why I don't even know. So yeah. Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes in any which way shape or form. I hope you like I don't want to let anyone down…maybe that's what I was afraid of.**

John held the small hand of Lucian as they walked down the road, failing to hail a cab, on their way to buy groceries. "Okay so the rules," John stated getting Lucian's attention. "Do not touch anything in the kitchen unless I'm around and on rare occasions when Sherlock is. When Sherlock is in one of his moods do not go near him unless he asks you to do something even then be skeptic. It won't end well," John tried to think of other rules.

"What are his moods?" Lucian asked innocently.

John looked down at him trying to figure out how to explain everything to a five year old. "You'll know when you see them," John nodded to himself figuring he explained it well. They arrived at the store shortly after. "Alright milk first."

"John," Lucian looked up at his father who looked down at him. "Is Sherlock scary all the time?"

John almost wanted to laugh but decided against it. "No. He's just not…um…like normal people."

Lucian looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

John thought for a minute trying to figure out how to explain Sherlock to a five year old. "He doesn't work well with most people that for one thing. He also thinks differently than almost everyone," he smiled hoping he got through to the small boy.

"Oh, oh, oh can we get goldfish?" Lucian jumped up and down after seeing his favorite food.

"Sure," John said reaching up and grabbing the biggest box they had. His phone started vibrating and he handed the box to Lucian. "Don't eat them yet." He looked at his text message. _'Come back quickly Lestrade needs up. –SH _

John sighed and pocketed his phone. "Come on we have to get going." Lucian nodded and put a stern face on heading toward the checkout line. John chuckled to himself and followed after him.

Sherlock bounced on his heals getting impatient. John should have been back two minutes ago. 'That kid is slowing him down,' Sherlock snarled to himself. He heard the door slam and Sherlock ran down the stairs. "Mrs. Hudson!" he yelled getting the old lady out of her flat.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson for watching him," John panted handing her the small amount of groceries as Lucian slid into the corner.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and said, "No problem dear."

Sherlock dragged John out of the building and hailed a cab. Inside John wanted to say something but didn't think it was appropriate time to ask. "What is it John?"

John looked at him surprised wondering how he figured out he wanted to say something but then he remembered who he was talking to. "Nothing I'll ask you later," he said looking out the window.

Sherlock sighed, grabbed John's hand and kissed it. "You want to know if he's really yours am I right?"

"Like I said I'll ask you later right now we need to concentrate," John continued to look out the window. Sherlock decided for once not to disturb him.

At the crime scene Sherlock was looking over everything. "This is the sixth burglary in this building," Lestrade said watching Sherlock as he crawled around the room going over every detail coming to his eye.

"I know," Sherlock state with a bored tone. He glanced around the room and out of the corner of his eye he saw a trap door on the wall. He shot a look towards John telling him to move to the door. Nobody noticed the small movement. "Do you use this trap door?" he asked the lady crying on her now nervous son's shoulder. He smirked, he had the thief.

"Not in years," the lady said between sobs.

Sherlock noticed her son back away and closer to the door not seeing John there. "I see that, you can tell by the rusty lock," Sherlock stated bending down in front of it.

"What are you getting at?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm getting at that the thief is so stupid he's not only hid his prizes in this small space but is still in the room," Sherlock said running his finger over a fresh line from the rust that was on the lock. He opened it up to reveal all the stolen objects.

The son bolted towards the girl connecting with John who put him in a head lock. The mother cried out and almost fell but someone caught her. Sherlock looked around all the sides and saw a small amount of blood around the corner. "John there should be a wound around the top of his head not really bad but enough to leave blood behind," Sherlock stated shutting his magnifying glass and put it in his pocket.

John checked his head and sure enough there it was a small wound that was barely bleeding. "Yep, there is."

"Get's some cuffs on him," Lestrade yelled as John pushed the son to the floor.

"Let's go John," Sherlock yelled already halfway out of the building, he hailed a cab easily. "Let's go get something to eat."

John nodded. "First we have to get Lucian," he told him.

"Can't we just leave him at home?" Sherlock asked also giving the address to Angelo's.

"No please take us to 221 B Baker Street," John said sternly sending a glare towards Sherlock.

"Which is it?" The cabbie asked looking at the two through the rearview mirror.

"Baker Street," John said.

"Okay."

Sherlock huffed. "Oh stop pouting Sherlock," John sighed. "We'll go out to eat still when we get Lucian if you want too."

"I guess we could go with him," Sherlock answered.

"Oh boys you're home," Mrs. Hudson opened her door. "Lucian they're here!" she yelled. Lucian came up behind her eyes drooping from tiredness. John grabbed his coat and helped the boy into it.

At the restaurant Lucian was trying so hard to stay awake but soon fell asleep. "Man he was tired," mumbled John eating what he ordered.

Sherlock nodded picking at his food. "So do you want to know if he's truly yours?" John glanced at Lucian and nodded. "Why do you want to know though, it's not like if he isn't yours you just drop him off at some home. You're way too nice for that," he cocked his head to the side watching him closely.

John looked down at his food biting his lip. "I just want to make sure if I'm not his father he knows that."

Sherlock nodded. "Well he is yours. He looks too much like you to not be your son," he stated and watched as John nodded. Sherlock decided to continue. "He's short for his age just like you. He also has your nose, which is very cute," he said in one of his rare moments calling anything cute.

John started laughing. "I guess you're right. Why didn't I see that?"

"Because you're an idiot," Sherlock said trying hard not to smile.

"Shut up," John went to go hit him but Sherlock caught his arm and pulled him into a kiss. "You should do that more often."

Sherlock chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

** Chapter 2 down yay! I hope this turned out good for you guys. BYE! **


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock kicked and hit the wall. "Come on Sherlock come out of the bathroom," John said through the door. "It's just Christmas dinner."

Sherlock opened the door and poked his head out. "John you never had to go, you don't know what it's like."

Lucian jumped down the steps until he was next to John. "I went to a Christmas dinner before," he started jumping back up the steps.

"Oh really good for you," Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Lucian stop that and you too Sherlock, it's just dinner," John scolded the two.

Lucian pouted and sat on a step. "Yeah mummy was there and grandma," he said pulling out a toy. "Also Uncle Mycroft, I think he's fat," he giggled.

"See I'm not the only one that thinks my brother is…" Sherlock paused and looked at John who looked horrified then back up at Lucian. "Wait Uncle Mycroft? Fat guy, dark hair, umbrella?"

Lucian nodded. John held his breath he felt like jumping out of the closest window. "Mummy said he wasn't my real uncle though like grandma isn't my real grandma."

John sighed afraid that Lucian would somehow have Holmes blood in him. If that were to happen he would think someone was out to get him.

"What's your mother's name?" Sherlock asked.

"Cynthia Jenkins," John answered for him.

"Oh now I understand," Sherlock stated closing himself back into the bathroom.

John looked up at his son who shrugged and went back to playing on the stairs. He looked back at the door and yelled, "What do you mean you understand?"

Sherlock opened the door again and sighed. "The Jenkins are an old family friend. My mother grew up with Cynthia's mother very close. I remember Cynthia, she came around a few times but she never really like me," Sherlock said like he had no clue why anybody wouldn't like him.

John nodded. "Here I thought me and her were so alike," he said walking into the living room. "  
I guess not since I can stand being near you," he whispered.

Lucian came back down the stairs and climbed up onto the couch John was currently occupying and laid his head on his lap. "I'm hungry."

John looked down at him and raised an eyebrow then remembered he did need breakfast. "Okay I'll make you something." He stood up and went into the kitchen. "Sherlock get out of the bathroom," he yelled.

"I'm taking a shower John," Sherlock yelled back.

After John left for work and Lucian went down to Mrs. Hudson Sherlock sat in his chair staring at the wall. An hour of that Sherlock yelled and threw a book at the object of his frustrations. He stood from his chair and stormed out of the flat, mumbling something about paint and overalls.

Lucian sat on Mrs. Hudson's clean kitchen floor racing his toy cars. "I'm not allowed in our kitchen," he stated crawling under the table.

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "That's because Sherlock makes a mess with experiments."

"I know John said I might die if I eat or touch something he didn't look at yet," Lucian explained. "At my mummy's house I used to cook with her all the time." He started crying from the spot under the table. He stayed there till he fell asleep.

John came home and walked through Mrs. Hudson's door. "Mrs. Hudson," he called out.

"In the kitchen dearie," she told him. John walked in and saw Lucian lying under the table asleep. "He's been like that for hours. I couldn't get him you know because of my hip, sorry."

John smiled and shook his head. "Why is he under the table?" he whispered kneeling down to pick up the small boy.

Mrs. Hudson frowned. "He started crying about his mother and fell asleep.

John thanked her and brought Lucian upstairs and laid down on the couch with Lucian lying on his chest. Sherlock came down the stairs wearing a T-shirt and overalls both covered in yellow paint. John opened his mouth then shut it again decided not to even ask.

Later that night John brought Lucian up to his room. When he opened up the door he saw all the once white walls were now yellow. He smiled and started laughing. Lucian looked around with the same smile on his face. "I love yellow," he said squirming out of John's arms so he could touch the walls. "Who did this?"

John stopped laughing. "I don't know," he lied. "Now go to sleep." He walked back down stairs to where Sherlock was sitting in the same position he was in for hours. John smiled towards him and went into his own room.

"Lucian are you dressed?" John yelled trying to find his shoes.

Lucian came down the stairs glaring at his shirt. "It's broken," he said trying to button it. John sighed and helped him with it.

"Come on we're going to be late," Sherlock said from the front door. John finished tying his shoes and grabbed his son's hand leading him out the door.

On the way there Sherlock decided not to talk leaving John to talk with a five year old but he figured it was better than not talking at all. They arrived at Sherlock's childhood home in about three hours. Sherlock got out of the car grumbling about something and Lucian jumped out nearly falling. John felt like the only sane one so far and just followed.

They rang the door bell that seemed oddly placed on such a big house. Mycroft opened the door. "You're early," he said looking at his watch.

Sherlock pushed past him and called out, "Mother."

"She's in the living room Sherlock," Mycroft said shaking John and Lucian's hand. The two followed him to find Sherlock sitting next to an older lady that could only be known as Mrs. Holmes chatting away with her.

"Grandma!" John yelled running up to Mrs. Holmes and hugging her interrupting her conversation. "Guess what."

Mrs. Holmes smiled at him. "What?"

Lucian grabbed John's hand and pulled him closer to the couch. "This is my daddy," he said proudly.

"Hello, John Watson," John introduced himself.

"Katelynn Holmes," Mrs. Holmes said shaking John's hand. "So you are his father, the famous Dr. John Watson."

John raised an eyebrow. "Famous?" he looked over at Sherlock who was glaring at Mycroft.

Mrs. Holmes patted the spot next to her. "Oh yes I heard of you before. Mycroft told me about you, also Sherlock and Cynthia." She looked over to her youngest son. "Now I want to know is how?"

"How what?" John asked confused.

"How you managed to not only live with my son but start dating him," Mrs. Holmes said then added, "Trust me I raised him I know how hard he is to live with."

John looked around and shrugged. "I don't know."

Sherlock laughed. "You don't know. You practically jumped me in an alleyway," he stated.

Dinner went by without a hitch really, except when Sherlock put a laxative in Mycroft's drink and Lucian throwing food up trying to catch it in his mouth, also Mrs. Holmes launching a fork into a wall because of her son's bickering. That wasn't at all bad. Now the gift exchange was worst. Everyone got their gifts and Mycroft was opening his last one that just so happened to be from Sherlock. He tore off the paper and looked at the book. "I'm on a diet Sherlock I don't need your stupid book," he stated grinding his teeth.

"Well it seems to me that it is failing so I'm just helping," Sherlock smirked.

Mycroft gripped the book. "Oh why thank you. I think I forgot one of your gifts," he said. Sherlock looked over at John with a questioning look. John shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah it's for your over sized ego." He chucked the book across the room hitting Sherlock, who was looking back at Mycroft, in the face.

"Mycroft!" Mrs. Holmes yelled glaring at her older son.

John lifted Lucian off his lap and started to examine Sherlock's face. He was bleeding from his nose and a cut across his forehead. "We run after criminals and you come home unscratched, one Christmas dinner and you practically break your nose," John huffed. Lucian ran off to get the first aid kit knowing exactly where it was. John fixed Sherlock up and they left.

They walked into the flat. "Go get into your pajamas," John ordered Lucian. The two older men got changed and went back into the living room.

Sherlock grabbed John's hand and pulled him over to the couch. "My mother likes you," he stated laying down and pulling John on top of him.

"I hope so if not I think she could kill me with her silverware," John laughed.

Lucian came down the stairs and climbed on the couch and laid in between John and Sherlock's legs placing his head on the opposite arm. Sherlock turned off the table lamp and wrapped his arms around John's waist. "Good night guys."

**I'm happy to have this one out I've been working on it all weekend. I hope you'll like it. BYE!**


	4. Chapter 4

** Okay I'm back and I don't even know if anyone likes this but that's okay because I do…sometimes. Now before I begin I want to point out that House M.D. as in the show is a lot like Sherlock Holmes. I'll give you my proof for those who haven't already figured it out. Sherlock's last name is Holmes almost like home and House's last name is well house see the similarity I know you would. Also House is addicted to a drug as is Sherlock, and they both don't deal with people well. My favorite is that Sherlock's best friends name is John Watson initials JW, House's best friends name is James Wilson initials JW. I rest my case, I had to get that out to people it was really bother me. Thank you…have fun!**

Sherlock got a text from Lestrade stating his need for Sherlock…on the case. Sherlock jolted right up from the couch happy to finally have a case. He ran down the stairs and was about to go out the door when Mrs. Hudson stopped him. "What?" he growled.

"I'm sorry Sherlock but I need to get to the hospital and I can't go pick Lucian up from school," she stated frantically.

Sherlock groaned. "Mrs. Hudson I'm going to solve a murder case I can't have him with me he'll get in the way," he explained. Mrs. Hudson made a face and Sherlock got out his phone and called John. "John you need to pick Lucian up," he said once he picked up.

"Why are you calling you never call? Plus I can't I'm swamped here," John told him, you could hear all the people in the background.

"I'm going on a case and Mrs. Hudson is going to the hospital you need to pick up your son," Sherlock stated.

John retorted with, "Please Sherlock, if you don't do this there is no sex for a week."

"I can hold out that long," Sherlock told him.

"Fine then no sex for eight weeks," John said and Sherlock glared at the wall. "I have to go Sherlock patients are giving me weird looks, love you bye," John said quickly then hung up.

Sherlock turned to Mrs. Hudson. "You need to pick him up," he said sternly with a slight whine in his voice.

"I can't I need to leave now bye," she left quickly leaving no room for any protest from Sherlock.

Sherlock sighed and ran back up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed a Christmas tie that John got from his mother. He arrived at the school after he texted Lestrade he would be late. He walked through the front doors and up to the front desk. "I'm here to pick up Lucian Watson," he said in a bored tone.

Lucian hopped up from his seat that he was waiting in and ran over to Sherlock. "Sherlock what are you doing here?" he asked excitingly.

"Mrs. Hudson had to be somewhere and John is at work," Sherlock explained. Lucian nodded and followed him out of the building.

They were walking to the crime scene; about halfway there Lucian plopped down on the ground and complained about being too tired to walk. "No Lucian you need to walk," Sherlock stated. The small boy shook his head, Sherlock groaned and picked him up and carried him the rest of the way.

When they got there Donavan looked up and stopped any snide remark she was going to say. "Why do you have a kid?"

"Why is Anderson wearing the same lipstick as you?" Sherlock said simply. Lucian giggled and watched Donavan's face as they passed. They went up the stairs and before they went into the room Sherlock put Lucian down. "I'm going to tie this around your eyes, you are not allowed to take it off at all unless I say it's okay. John will kill me if you end up with psychological problems," Sherlock told him while tying the tie around his head. He walked into the room and scanned it before going to the body. The body was a bloody mess, there were stab wounds all over the place and the floor was practically covered in the blood.

Lestrade entered the room and the first thing he noticed was a small blindfolded child. "Who is this?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter right now. Who is he?" Sherlock asked not taking his eyes of the body.

"Greg Fullsin, works as a store clerk, and was last seen with his girlfriend Friday night at his parents' house," Lestrade said reading his notes.

Sherlock nodded. "Okay you're looking for a man about 5'9" wearing flip flops," he explained. "He would be with a girl who should be wearing broken heels," he said picking up a heel. "Have you got hold of his girlfriend?"

"No she's not at home," Lestrade told him. Sherlock nodded and continued his search. Lestrade turned to Lucian. "So who are you?"

"I'm Lucian Watson," Lucian said proudly.

Lestrade raised his eyebrows and looked at Sherlock who wasn't paying attention. "So are John's nephew or something?"

"No I'm his son," Lucian told him. Lestrade jaw dropped he never expected John to have kids. Lestrade opened his mouth to ask him another question one about how old he was but Lucian cut him off. "I'm five," he said reading Lestrade's mind like Sherlock.

"That's weird," Lestrade said reeling back from the boy and looked back at Sherlock. "So have you got anything?"

"Not yet," He answered and went over and picked up Lucian. "We're leaving," he stated before he left the room taking the tie off of Lucian.

"Where are we…?" Lucian started but was quieted him. He kept his mouth shut the rest of the way to their destination.

They arrived at a small restaurant and were seated at a table close to the window and a place where Sherlock could keep a good eye on the whole room. A lady with a huge smile on her face came over and placed menus on the table. "I didn't know you have kids Sherlock," she said with a high voice.

"He's not mine," Sherlock answered as he watched everyone walk in.

The lady nodded and turned to Lucian. "Is there anything you would like it's on the house?"

"Chicken nuggets!" Lucian yelled jumping up and down.

"I like him he knows what he wants," she said and left to go get his food.

Lucian watched in silence as Sherlock though knowing not to disturb him. "Why would he be wearing flip flops?" Sherlock asked himself.

"Maybe he just came home from vacation," Lucian answered trying to help.

Sherlock's eyes glided over to him as he let a smile overcome him. "Of course that makes sense. He must have gone on a vacation with our body and his girlfriend," Sherlock said. "This must mean he was most likely having an affair with his best friend's girlfriend."

"How?" Lucian asked.

Sherlock sighed figuring the five year old genius wouldn't know that. "Well in our body's pocket I found three plane tickets, one for our body, his girlfriend, and his friend. The first two tickets were bought as a Valentine's Day gift which means it was supposed to be a romantic getaway. The date on his friend's ticket was bought later than the other two tickets so he was invited, by whom? The girlfriend that he was having an affair with," Sherlock explained. Lucian nodded. Sherlock spotted his two suspects walk in and sit down at the counter. "They're here," he whispered to Lucian. 'Now I just need a good reason to get close enough to get a good look at him," he thought to himself.

"Daddy I need a napkin," Lucian stated.

Sherlock looked at him and was about to retort but found out where he was heading. "I'll be right back then," he stood from his table and walked over to the counter to where the suspects were sitting. "Excuse me just need some napkins," he said leaning over the man and taking in all the little thing about him, like how his hands shook and he kept glancing around same with the girl next to him. He also noticed a cut on his left hand where he probably cut himself while slashing his best friend. "Kids huh?"

The guy turned to him. "Y-yeah they're a handful," he croaked out and turned back to his companion.

Sherlock went back over to the table and handed Lucian the napkins. "Maybe I don't despise you…that much," he said. "Let's go."

John hurried up the stairs and flew into the flat. "I'm so sorry Sherlock," he said out of breath. He saw Sherlock staring off into space thinking about something and all he could see of Lucian was his dark curly hair poking out of one of John's jumpers.

"He dirtied his clothes today and didn't have any clean ones, so I put him in your jumper," Sherlock explained.

"I'm so sorry I wish I could have gotten off work but I couldn't," John apologized. Sherlock waved him off and continued thinking. John walked over to Lucian and shook him awake. His head popped out of the top and John had to laugh at how cute it really was. "Hey how was your day?"

Lucian lifted his covered hand and rubbed his eyes. "It was fun. I got a one hundred on a test. I also helped Sherlock on a case sort of, he said I was like the skull and you but smarter," he said proudly.

John's face fell and turned to Sherlock. "So you said my son is smarter than me?"

Sherlock shrugged. "I mealy said that he was quicker than you that's all," he explained.

"He's five years old!" John ejaculated.

"You're forgetting he skipped many grades," Sherlock pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," John sighed giving up and going to make a cup of tea. "Lucian are you hungry?"

"Yes!" Lucian yelled and hopped into the kitchen the sleeves to the jumper dragging on the floor. "Can I help you cook?"

John looked down at him and smiled. "Yeah, pour this in once I tell you to okay?" Lucian nodded.

"If you keep feeding him like that he'll get dumber," Sherlock stated.

"Feeding him like was Sherlock we have no food," John yelled back. "Plus he's a growing boy he needs to eat."

John slid into the bed next to Sherlock and got comfortable. Sherlock slung his arm around John's waist and pulled him closer. "So did you have fun?" John asked stifling a yawn.

"John you should know that I don't consider many things fun," Sherlock stated burrowing his head into John's clothed shoulder.

"Yeah," John mumbled.

"Like this I find fun," Sherlock said kissing John's neck. John turned around and kissed Sherlock. He turned John over and straddled his hips. He took off his shirt and threw it to the ground and started trailing kisses down his chest.

A knock came to their bedroom door and John cleared his throat. "Yes?" he asked sitting up more.

"I had a bad dream," Lucian stated through the door.

John gave one last kiss to Sherlock before pushing off. He rolled his eyes as Sherlock started pouting. "Scratch that I still despise him," Sherlock pouted.

"Come in," John said.

Lucian slept in their room that night curled up into John's chest, who was curled up into Sherlock's whose arm was wrapped around the two. A sight Mrs. Hudson couldn't resist taking a picture of when she saw them.

**Alright I got this up and running sort of. Anyway I hope you like it and if you don't I will go into another I'm not good enough routine in which I don't write the story but I will think as long as I like the story I will write it and that is was I'm doing now you see I'm a good sport sometimes. Wow that's a run on sentence any who bye! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey peeps back from the hood. Not really but yeah I'm here to write the next chapter and I hope you all like it. I really didn't mean to take this long to get this chapter up. Currently my main focus is on the book that I'm writing so the chapters might be coming up later and later. Good news I found out how I want to end this, that doesn't mean it's going to end soon it just means I have a goal to reach. So enjoy! Bye!**

John dragged and angry Lucian behind him as they entered the airport. "I don't want to go John!" he yelled being a fuss ball.

John stopped mid step and knelt down to his son's level. "Lucian listen to me," he said sternly before continuing. "We are here to pick up Sherlock and you are going to behave okay."

Lucian decided to take the stubborn road and crossed his arms and sat right down in the middle of the airport. "That's it," John said getting mad. He picked Lucian up off the ground and started walking to the waiting area. "That is the last time you go without a nap."

Sherlock sat in his seat and waited for his flight to take off. The flight attendants told him no one else was sitting by him because of what happened on the way to New York and he was happy with that, but somebody did sit in the seat right next to him. Sherlock took a quick glance at him and deduced he was a fairly wealthy business owner.

The other guy turned to Sherlock and smiled. He stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Robby Slip nice to meet you."

Sherlock told him his name and shook his hand. He really didn't want to talk to the man again but the other didn't catch the vibe he was giving off and talked most of the flight to England.

John checked his watch and smiled. It was almost time for Sherlock's plane to land and they could get home. "John," Lucian whined for the eighth time since they been there.

"What Lucian?" John asked through clenched teeth. He noticed he sounded meaner then he meant to.

Lucian shrunk in on himself and almost started crying. "I-I," he hiccupped, "just wanted a snack."

John sighed and loosened his shoulders up releasing all the tension. "Okay. Let's go get you a snack then we can eat when we get home," he told him getting up and taking his hand.

Once back at their seat a lady tapped John on his shoulder. "Excuse me sir is he your son?" she asked in an overly sweat voice.

John looked down at Lucian then back up to her. "Yes he is," he said trying to keep the fact that he found her a little creepy.

"I knew it he's such a little cutie isn't he," she said bending down to Lucian who was coloring in a coloring book on the chair next to John. "You look a lot like your dad you know that right?" she asked. "Are you here picking up your mommy?"

Lucian shook his head. "No she's no longer alive," he explained.

A creepers smile crept across her face and she sat down next to John. "What's your name?" she asked.

"John Watson," a deep voice answered for him. The lady turned around and was about to ask who he was but stopped at the sharp eyes that stared her down.

"Sherlock!" Lucian yelled and ran to hug his legs. "You're home."

John stood too and just smiled at him. "Oh," was all the lady said she rolled her eyes and turned to John. "I wasn't that into you anyway," she stated before walking away.

"So I leave for a week or two and you already try and find a girl?" Sherlock said watching as John laughed.

"Just give me a hug," John said rolling his eyes and gave Sherlock a hug and a kiss.

"Hey Sherly," Robby said coming up behind Sherlock.

"Oh you didn't wait either I see," John said giving him another quick kiss before turning to the other man. "What's your name?" he asked not jealous at all.

"I'm Robby Slip, and you must be John Watson," he said putting out his hand.

"Yep that's me, how do you know 'Sherly'?" he asked shaking his hand.

Sherlock took a deep breath and pick up Lucian from around his legs. "He sat next to me on the plane and just started talking," Sherlock answered.

"Yep now I have to go business meeting an all," Robby answered and was off in a flash.

John turned to Sherlock a small smile on his lips. "I'm just happy to have you home," he said kissing the tall man again. "It's been utterly boring without you, and Lucian beat me in every chess game we played. You need to put him back into his place."

Later that night Sherlock and Lucian were playing their tenth game of chess. Lucian losing every time, he flipped the board over three times in frustration, and walked away four times to take a breather like John told him to do.

Sherlock made his move and stared at the five year old. "So Lucian the teachers haven't noticed the skull in your backpack yet?" he asked smiling as the younger one stopped mid move.

"No," he answered softly. "I'll put it back," he told Sherlock. He made his move and went to get his bag.

"So Sherlock how did the case go?" John asked coming in from the kitchen poking at the Chinese food they ordered earlier.

"Dull," he answered eyeing the board carefully. "The cousin did it with the hedge trimmers."

"That sounds bloody," he commented. "Hey where's Lucian?" he asked looking around.

Lucian came down the stairs with the skull in his hands and handed it to Sherlock. "Sorry I took it," he said sadly.

"I'm not mad," he reassured him. He stood up and placed it back on the mantel. "It's your move."

Lucian scanned the board and moved his piece. "Why did he have the skull?" John asked confused at the other two's actions.

"I was lonely at school," Lucian answered.

"Oh so instead of making friends you bring a human skull?" John asked sitting down next to Sherlock on the couch. "That makes perfect sense."

"You taken the skull to work before," Sherlock pointed out.

John sunk back into the couch red covering his face. "Only because I missed you," he stated shyly.

Sherlock smirked. "Check mate," he said before turning to John and snuggling into his side and kissing his neck. "I know," he told him.

Lucian threw his hands up in the air and stormed off to the stairs stating he was going to bed. "He'll get over it," John laughed. "So what do you want to do tonight?" he asked.

Sherlock smirked. "You," he answered slyly.

**Yay it's done. I hope you like it and a heads up if you haven't already noticed I'm really bad with characters and I can't keep them in line, if you know what I mean. Um… awkward moment. Well I hope you're enjoying the story so far and hope you'll enjoy it later on till the ending. Bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay back with another chapter. I have a request for you guys; well it is more me asking you guys for a favor. I want you guys to come up with a birthday for Lucian because the poor boy needs to turn six at some point he can't stay five and a half forever you know. If you can do that, thank you. BYE! **

John ran after faint footsteps that belonged to Sherlock and the suspect they were chasing. He lost sight of them when he fell through old floor boards cutting up his leg real bad. He knew had to catch up just in case something bad happened and the tables turned.

He stopped; he couldn't hear them running any more he looked around listening for any type of sound. He heard a crash in the ally way next to him, he looked in it and saw a small blood trail, and he limped into it expecting the worse. He saw Sherlock be thrown out from behind a dumpster and John ran towards him. A big guy that looked like he could snap John in two stood over Sherlock and lifted him up off the dirty ground.

John stopped and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the guy's head he shouted, "Put him down or I shoot." The guy looked at him and tossed Sherlock, who was kicking at the bigger one, to the side and started walking toward John.

"John run he won't stop!" Sherlock screamed as he got up. "Run to the end of the street," he ordered running towards John.

John lowered his gun and obeyed. He ran as fast as his injured leg would let him, he knew he was losing blood every second and that was not good, the suspect was close behind. He saw Lestrade just in front of Sherlock who looked to be yelling frantically at him, but for some reason John couldn't hear anything.

Lestrade somehow stopped the giant man, got him cuffed, and in the back seat of his car. John leaned up against a building watching everything but his vision was blurred. Sherlock walked up to him and said something; John just nodded and held onto his arm as they went to get a cab.

At home John staggered up the stairs and walked into their flat. Sherlock noticed something that he couldn't see before. "John wait!" he yelled. John didn't stop doing what he was doing. Sherlock grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the couch. He put up his hands telling John to stay. He went to get a first aid kit.

John didn't listen, for some reason his mind didn't comprehend that he was in pain anymore. He got up and walked to the stairs, his only thought was to check up on Lucian. He got to his sons room and saw that he was still awake. "What are you doing up?" he asked.

Lucian looked up from his pad and saw the blood soaking through the others jeans. "Dad?" he whispered scared of what happened. The John fell onto the ground. "Daddy!" Lucian yelled running to his side.

Sherlock took the stairs two at a time and entered the room quickly. He saw Lucian shaking John crying. "Move," he ordered and ripped off John's pants. He saw a deep wound and quickly bandaged it stopping the blood.

"What happened?" Lucian asked.

Sherlock looked up from his lover to his son. "It must have happened when we were chasing Julius," he told him. "Alright I'm going to put him in your bed." He lifted him up and carried him over to the old bed.

"Is he going to be alright?" Lucian asked sitting on the edge of the bed. Sherlock nodded and sat next to him.

"You should go to bed," he said to the small boy.

Lucian shook his head. "I'm not tired," he said quietly. "Do you want to play something?"

Sherlock looked at him skeptically. "Like what?" he asked.

John woke up feeling a lot better than he did last night. He looked down and saw Sherlock curled up on his side wearing what looked like a paper crown. He felt someone else on his other side and saw his son hugging a fake sword to his chest. He chuckled making the two wake up.

Sherlock smiled and gave him a kiss. "Are you feeling better?" he asked nuzzling back into his chest.

"Yes my king," John said laughing a little. Sherlock was going to take off the crown but John stopped him. "No I think you look good with a crown on."

Lucian smiled and hugged John. "I'm so happy you're better daddy," he whispered.

John looked at him feeling happy that he was finally being called dad, but he had to admit it felt a tiny bit weird. "Me too," he stated happily. "So are you a knight?" he asked.

"Yes! I got to cut people's heads of with my sword for King Sherlock," he said excitement in every word he spoke.

John sighed. "Why did you make him cut off people's heads?" he asked the man to his left.

"Well they were going against me and I beheaded them," Sherlock told him sitting up, John sighed again but left it at that.

"Alright shall I make breakfast then?" John asked trying to get out of bed.

"No you stay in bed, I'm going to make breakfast," Sherlock said. "Lucian guard the door and watch him at all times," he told the five year old.

Lucian nodded and stood at the door after Sherlock left and watched his father. "Come over here Lucian let's talk," John said patting the bed. Lucian shook his head and stood his ground. "Fine then we'll talk like this. How's school going?"

Lucian frowned. "It's going good," he said shyly.

John knew something was up. "What's going on at school?" he asked using his 'tell me now' voice.

Lucian swallowed. "The other kids are making fun of me," he said truthfully.

"Why would they make fun of you?" John asked.

Lucian finally let his guard down and walked over to the bed. He climbed up on it and hugged John's arm. "Well they make fun of me because of my age, and they tell me I'm stupid when I tell them about your stories," he explained.

John ran his fingers through his curls and frowned. "Well you're not stupid we all know that and they just are jealous of you," he told him. Lucian nodded into his arm and hugged him tighter.

Sherlock came in with what he could muster up from the kitchen that wasn't being used for an experiment. He placed the plate on John's lap and sat next to him. "Is it good?" he asked watching the other intently.

John turned to smile at him and gave him a quick kiss. "It's wonderful," he commented.

Sherlock smiled and checked John's wounds. After making sure everything was alright he went back to just watching his partner eat his food. "You had me really worried last night," he admitted.

John put down his fork and wrapped the arm that wasn't currently wearing a Lucian around Sherlock's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry I thought I would be alright when I got home but I guess not," he said.

"Well you should have stopped," Sherlock told him.

"Well if I stopped you might be dead right now," John told him sternly.

Sherlock put on a grim face and stood up from the bed. "I'm going out for a while," he announced as he left the room. The rest of the day he spent working on an experiment at the morgue.

John sat in bed wondering why Sherlock just left but couldn't think of anything that would explain it beside it being Sherlock and Sherlock did stuff like that.

**Okay I don't know what this chapter is, to tell you the truth I was planning on writing something totally different without them in it but I did. Well maybe next chapter. This one I don't like that much but it's what came to me so I hope you like it better than I do. BYE!**


	7. Chapter 7

**While hello there I'm here to chase away all your fears. No I'm not but I think that sounds a little cool. Anyway on with business. I found out that there was a man out there whose name was John Holmes, I laughed about that. Alright now that you know that I would gladly present the next chapter to this glorious story that has past all my other commented stories and this is generally liked besides the few comments that aren't so good. But we all need to take criticism sometimes. So yeah…BYE!**

Jim Moriarty couldn't remember much before he woke up in the hospital with a very bad head injury. In fact he couldn't remember anything, not what he used to do, who he used to like, or even his name. But a simple folder solved most of those problems.

In the folder there was his name Jim Moriarty, a bank account in which he had money in, a flat for him to live, and a man named Sherlock Holmes's picture and who he was and where he lived. The folder basically told him that Sherlock Holmes was the reason to all his memory problems.

Moriarty felt hatred towards the man that burned his heart to the core. He wanted to hurt the man like he hurt him. So he thought up a plan to get back at him. To help out this plan he had to keep an eye on all the things this Holmes did, what he liked, and who he loved. He found out he lived with a shorter blond man, and a small child. The owner of the building was an old lady that didn't really matter but he knew he had to be cautious of her just in case.

He knew exactly what needed to be done, and soon he would set his plan into action.

Lucian played checkers with his new friend, Peter Vase, out in front of his building. He knew he had Peter in two more moves and was happy he had someone he could beat.

"Why is your dad asleep?" Peter asked thinking of his next jump.

Lucian looked up. "He's not he's at work," he answered. He glanced across the street at a man that was giving him a weird feeling. He's been there for only ten minutes but he did a lot of staring.

"Then who's the guy asleep upstairs?" his friend asked getting back Lucian's attention.

"That's Sherlock he's my dad's boyfriend," Lucian told him taking Peter's last piece and declaring victory. "Let's go back inside."

Peter stood and followed the younger boy up to the messy flat. "How can your dad have a boyfriend?" he asked yet another question.

Lucian shrugged his shoulders, as he put away the chess board he checked out the window and saw the man still staring at the building. "Follow me," he whispered to Peter and walked into Sherlock's room.

As he shut the door Sherlock eye's opened and he shot his head in the direction of Lucian. "What do you want?" he asked, you could hear the sleep clogging up his voice.

"There's a man watching our flat," he said smoothly.

Sherlock sat up and motioned for them to stay on the bed. He left the room and took a quick glance out the window. He didn't see anyone, and any normal parent of any normal child would just dismiss it as the child's imagination, but Sherlock knew he still had enemies out there and one of them could have been keeping an eye on them.

He entered the bed room again. "Okay I want you two to stay in here till John get's home. Don't make much noise," he told them as he lay back down on his bed.

They sat in silence for a while. Lucian knew Sherlock wasn't asleep but knew that if he did make a lot of noise the thinking man would be very angry. Peter wasn't happy about having to be quiet for such a long time, but Lucian made up a silent game to keep them entertained.

Lucian was scared; you could tell how he sat as close to Sherlock as he could without being on the bed. He wasn't sure who the creepy man was and if he was a real threat. But he must have been or Sherlock wouldn't have them stay in the room with him. He looked at his friend and didn't notice any sign of being shaken. He was just trying to do the next move of the game they made up.

Lucian was a little envious of him and how carefree he was, where he couldn't help notice things that could go wrong at any moment. Not that he understood a lot of the things that are going on around him he knew bad things from good things. Like a man staring at him and 221B Baker Street was defiantly a red light in his head.

Sherlock sat up suddenly and he didn't look happy. "Moriarty," he whispered.

Lucian went rigid, he heard that name before in one of the stories John told him. He was always called evil and said to have no heart. His ears perked up at the sound of their door opening. He got up and ran for the door. "Lucian," Sherlock whispered harshly at him but it didn't stop the five and three quarter's year old.

John came home and was stunned by the silence. He was going to yell for people but Lucian poked his head out from his bedroom door. He sighed in relief that it wasn't the creeper guy. "Daddy I'm so glad you're home," he said hugging John's knees.

"Why what happened?" he asked, he saw another boy walk out of his bedroom then Sherlock, looking tired but alert.

"John I need to speak with you," Sherlock said and dragged him into the kitchen out of ear shot.

John pulled his arm away and looked at the taller man curiously. "What?" he asked.

Sherlock took a deep breath and answered him, "I think Moriarty is back." He gripped the table turning his knuckles white. He didn't like the idea of Moriarty coming back so quickly it's only been a few months.

Just hearing the man's name made John furious. "Why do you think that?" he asked.

"Lucian saw someone watching the building earlier today," Sherlock told him. "Seeing as they didn't find his body at the pool he could still be alive." He knew he was still alive.

John sighed, clenched and unclenched his fist. "I see," he said softly. "So our greatest enemy is back…that's splendid," he stated like it was normal. "Anyone else want tea?"

**Okay I kind of like this chapter maybe that's a bad sign because if I don't really like a chapter other people do. But anyway maybe I should explain why I did what I did with Moriarty. Well the first reason I made him loose his memory is because normal Moriarty would be very, very hard to write for me, and I like him not really knowing he used to be a consulting criminal and being all evil like he was. So yeah that's not going to change I'm keeping him without a evil memory but still have hatred towards Sherlock, you're lucky I didn't put in the thing about cat trinkets like I was going to. I put it in my first two drafts so yeah lucky. Um…so yeah Lucian has a friend yay! He was a character from a book I was writing earlier this year but stopped because I didn't know what else to do for it. Anyway I'm just going on about nonsense now. BYE!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay I'm here and all to write the new chapter for all of you basically one person that reviews every chapter which I love so thank you, you and the other reviewers keep me going. Um…I don't really know what else to say except hope you like it. **

Lestrade bounded up the stairs and into the consulting detectives home. He expected to see said detective but he saw a floor covered in dominos. He stopped and looked around. "Hello?" he yelled out into the flat.

Lucian's head popped up from behind a chair. "Inspector Lestrade," he said happily. "Sherlock's not here."

Lestrade sighed and rubbed his face. "I'll be off then," he turned to go but stopped. "They left you here alone?"

"No Mrs. Hudson is downstairs," Lucian explained maneuvering expertly around the serpent of dominos.

"That counts as not being alone?" he asked turning fully back around.

"Well yes, she does come up and gives me goldfish quite often," he told him. Lestrade was astonished how well the five year old talked when his own five year old could barely say 'goldfish' without adding a 'v' in there somewhere. "Speaking of which can you hand me that bowl right by your foot?" The older man bent down and picked up the bowl and handed it to the other. He stayed and watched as Lucian moved some pieces of his master piece. "Don't you have some where to be Inspector?" he asked distracted.

Lestrade shook himself and started to leave quickly stating, "You spend too much time with Sherlock." He left the building and off to a crime scene while sending a text off to Sherlock.

Back at the flat Lucian looked down at the start of the long line of dominos, a frown overtaking his face. "I do not," he pouted and effortlessly flicked down all the black and white rectangles. He stood and ran as fast as his bare feet could take him up to his room, where he slammed the door and went right under his covers.

John held Sherlock from behind around his waist, his head lying gently on his shoulder, and watched him as he fiddled around with a slide. "Phone," Sherlock said as his phone vibrated.

John, with master hand, reached into the others pocket and looked at the screen. He knew by now not to complain about how he could have gotten it. "It's Lestrade he has a case for us," John said as he read the text.

Sherlock stood full height, grabbed his jacket, fixed up his scarf, and was out the door, John swiftly doing the same shutting the door behind him.

"There's no murder weapon, no sign of forced entry but the door was opened," Lestrade told Sherlock as he walked into the door. "There's also a blood trail that leads all the way down the street but we lost it when it reached the end of the street."

Sherlock scanned the room before going to the body. "No murder weapon you say?" he said aloud but not expecting an answer. He examined the wounds on the victim's foot and chest.

They looked like they were torn open not cut with any type of knife. He noticed something next to the dead body's feet and picked it up in his fingers. He smelt it and found out it was marijuana. "There's marijuana all around him," he stated.

Lestrade nodded. "Yeah that's why we think it's a deal gone wrong," he said hoping he would get a good response.

"No I don't think it is," Sherlock told him. "I don't think this was even done by a human."

Lestrade's eyes went wide. "Why not?" he asked needing an explanation.

"Well if you look at the wounds closely you can notice teeth marks around the edges. Plus if it were a deal gone wrong don't you think the person would have the brains to shut the door?" Sherlock pointed out like it was obvious. "It was his dog. Most likely trained to sniff out drugs, that's why he went crazy when he smelt his owner."

"Brilliant," John said from his little corner.

Sherlock turned to him with a smile. "Thanks love," he said happily. John's cheeks started to burn but didn't say anything else.

"Where's his dog then?" Lestrade asked ignoring the previous comment.

"He shouldn't be far from here, he is looking for his treat," Sherlock simply said. "You know Lestrade I thought you would have been able to figure this one out."

Lestrade glared at him for a second but gave up knowing it was no use. The two left leaving the scene. Lestrade went over to a police officer telling him to search for the victim's dog.

John stretched across the couch as he flipped on the television. "You did well today," he yelled to Sherlock who was in the kitchen. He just got a low hum in return so he didn't say anything else.

He got bored of the TV so he decided to check up on Lucian who's been to quiet for the time that they've been home. When he reached his door he knocked quietly and walked in. He saw Lucian curled up around a book like he was protecting it. He chuckled and carefully took the book out of his hands. The young boy stirred a little but didn't wake. John then pulled a blanket over his small frame and left the room letting him sleep peacefully.

Sherlock was on the couch when he returned. He sat next to him and grabbed his hand entwining their fingers together. "I love you," he said quietly.

Sherlock squeezed his hand and smiled. "I love you too," he said before kissing John.

**Wow I'm tired and I've been listening to the same six songs for the last hour or so. Oh my god they are really good but anyway on with the important stuff. I hope you like this chapter if you haven't noticed yet the chapters never really have much meaning to them; they're just random stuff I think of at the moment that I want to put in. So if you're expecting any kind of real importance you might have to wait a while. I don't know why I'm saying this, this late into the story but oh well right not you know. Again I hope you guys like it. BYE! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey I got another chapter out; this week is my week I guess. I hope you like it I have nothing really new to say. So yeah enjoy zee chapter.**

"Hello Harry?" John said into his cell phone. He didn't an answer so he continued. "It's John are you there?"

He heard laughing on the other end and he sighed. "Hello there little bro I didn't know who it was at first sorry," Harry said. "How have you been?"

John smiled he heard from a friend that Harry was now sober so he decided to talk to her. "I'm good how are you?"

"I've been better but I'm pulling through though," she told him letting out a long sigh.

"Well I was wondering if you would like to come out to eat with me and maybe meet your nephew," John said happily.

"My nephew? John when did you have a kid?" Harry asked trying not to laugh.

"Apparently five years ago," he said also trying to hold in his laughs. "So do you want to come out and have dinner with us?"

"Yeah I'll go out to eat with you guys," she said. "Just pick a time and I'll be there."

John looked at the two sets of eyes that were staring at him. He covered the phone so Harry couldn't hear. "When's a good time?" he asked Sherlock.

"Tonight!" Lucian yelled jumping up from Sherlock's lap.

Sherlock nodded. "That's the best choice because we don't know when we might be free for the next time," he explained.

John agreed and went back to the phone. "Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes John the time please," she said.

"Is tonight alright that's the only time we might be free?" he asked and he got a yes. "Okay another thing do you just want this to be a family dinner or can I bring someone?"

"What kind of someone John?" Harry asked, John could tell she was smiling. "Is it a girlfriend?"

John bit his lip and looked at Sherlock. "Not really," he said.

Sherlock shook his head and took the phone out of his hands. "Hello Harry, Sherlock here. John here is wondering if I am invited to the dinner to," Sherlock said into the phone.

John could hear his sisters laugh from where he was sitting. "Of course Sherlock you can come along," she told him.

John took the phone from Sherlock with a sharp look. "Yes we are dating!" he said into the phone and walked into the other room so no one could interrupt him any more than they already have.

Sherlock took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "We better get you cleaned up," he said to the very dirty little boy.

"It's only jam," he said going to lick his hand that was covered in it. Sherlock rolled his eyes and carried Lucian into the bathroom.

The three boys arrived at a nice restaurant that just so happened had an owner that Sherlock helped. They got a table for four and waited for Harry to show up. Lucian was pretending to be a fish and was "swimming" around their table trying to stay out of every ones way.

Sherlock decided to start drumming his fingers on the table to starve away the boredom. He watched everyone that entered and left. John got frustrated with the drumming so grabbed Sherlock's hand and kindly told him to stop. "Stop what John it's quite loud in here how can me doing this," he drummed his fingers one time, "annoy you?"

John narrowed his eyes. "It just does okay just stop do that," he fought back.

Sherlock sighed and started pouting but did what he was told. "Where is she?" he asked impatiently.

"On her way," John hissed.

"Have you not been getting any sleep?" Sherlock asked staring at him intently.

"Not much I haven't been feeling well these past few days," John admitted.

"You were acting fine earlier," Sherlock pointed out. John just waved him off as Harry decided to show up. "Oh she is the girl version of you," he said.

"John!" Harry yelled happily as she hugged her younger brother. "It's been too long."

John hugged her back. "I know," he said. "Sherlock this is Harry my sister as you already know, and Harry this is…" he was going to introduce Lucian but he was no longer at the table. "Where did Lucian go?"

Sherlock looked around and found no sight of him anywhere. "I heard him say he was going to the bathroom," he said.

John smiled and shook his head. "I'll go check," he said as he walked towards the bathrooms.

Harry sat down and stared at Sherlock. Sherlock looked away from John's retreating back and at her. "Yes?" he asked smoothly.

Harry smiled and looked at her menu. "Nothing," she stated. "So, what do you do for work?"

"I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world," Sherlock answered, his lips twitching into a smirk.

Harry raised her eyebrows and glanced up at him. "What does a consulting detective do?" she asked.

"When the police are out of their league, which is all the time, they come to me," he explained.

The owner of the restaurant came over to the table with a five year old holding onto his hand. "Sherlock I believe he belongs to you," he said handing him Lucian's hand. "I found him in the kitchen questioning my chefs."

"Ah there you are," Sherlock said waving away the owner after he apologized like John taught him to. "What were you doing in the kitchen?"

Lucian opened his mouth to answer him but John cut him to it. "Where were you?" he asked getting back to the table.

"Well on my way to the bathroom I was examining the food on some people's tables and thought I saw something suspicious. So I decided I would check out the chefs and see if they were poisoning us," he explained settling in on John's lap.

"My John you have a difficult one on your hands," Harry stated as she watched them.

"Oh you have no idea," John said looked at both Sherlock and Lucian. "I almost forgot. Lucian this is your aunt Harry."

Lucian reached his hand across the table so she could shake it. "Nice to meet you," he said politely.

Harry reached out her hand and shook the others. "Nice to meet you too. So tell me about yourself sweetie," she said sweetly.

Lucian's eyes lit up. "I like to draw," he told her. "Also I do very well in my classes. I have only one friend, his name's Peter, and I'm smarter than daddy."

John dropped his head onto his shoulder as he let out a big sigh, Sherlock laughed alongside Harry, and Lucian just sat there with a smile stretched across his face.

The rest of the night went smoothly, no calls to look at a dead body, no dead bodies on the table, and John finally got to catch up with his sister who he never really got along with.

"So I guess you always doing the opposite of what other people tell you to do comes from early age," Sherlock said as they sat in bed.

"I don't know what you mean," John said as he tried to sleep.

"Well when you were younger you were told to always wear your diaper you would take it off, and when Donavan told you to stay away from me you didn't," Sherlock explained to him.

"You are right I guess I do. Now I need to go to sleep, remember I don't feel very well," he said as he buried his head into his pillow.

**Ha, ha, ha I wanted to put Harry somewhere in here. So yeah like I said earlier I hope you like it. BYE! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey everyone, I am happy to tell you that this chapter is up. But as I know you're all very smart people and could figure that out on your own. Um… these characters are awesome thought I would tell you that. I might be ending this soon if I don't get a good response for the upcoming chapters. To tell you the truth I really like this and maybe after I'm done and wait a while I'll read it again and see if I like it even then. So yeah I hope you enjoy reading this chapter it may be short I don't know because I haven't written it yet. So yeah here you go.**

John sat back in his chair letting out a huge sigh. He was having a rough day, the first patient he had told him he fell down the stairs that day and had a huge bruise on his back and needed pain killers for it. When John told him he needed to look at it to see if anything was wrong the guy refused and demanded the pain killers. John sent him out telling him he was not getting any pain killers, he made sure to pat him on the back extra hard, and of course the man didn't really flinch at all. The day really went downhill from there; he had an older lady wipe her nose all over his shirt because there were no tissues nearby. Another kid kicked him in the shin because he didn't give him a lollypop for being good, in John's defense the kid was being a brat the whole time and he also thought fifteen year olds didn't need to be rewarded with a pop for being good. He had a mother yell at him for giving her son an orange band aid. 'Orange is the most dangerous color of them all,' she had stated firmly ripping the band aid off and demanding a new one. The last patient he just had was convinced she didn't have a normal head cold but some alien disease and that she was going to die in two days. John tried to calm her down and tell her that she would be fine, and told her to come and see him in three days. She gave him a weird look on the way out but said if she was alive she would do so.

He was happy that he had just one more patient before his hour long lunch break. He grabbed the folder and didn't glance at the name before he read the chart. He sighed again; the next one was a five year old who wasn't feeling well. He strongly disliked five year olds, except Lucian of course, he was no normal five year old anyway. He could handle Lucian's few moods where he was over tired and most likely hungry. Most other five year olds wanted everything they saw on the telly and barely knew how to tie their shoes.

Lucian hid his head in his arms as the teacher droned on about the solar system. He wasn't hiding his head because he already knew the things about the solar system, but the fact that he felt like throwing up and had a really massive head ache. He started crying with every pain that shot through his head, and every breath he took in messed with his tummy.

He wished he stayed home but didn't want to bother anyone so he decided it would be better to just go to school. Now that he thought back to it, he figured it was the worst idea he ever had in his short life. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he lifted his head slowly to look at his teacher. "Lucian are you okay?" she asked worried with how pale he looked. He nodded, he decided to keep his idea going, but regretted it as his stomach lurched forward.

He tried his best to get to the trash can that was right next to him but he couldn't reach it in time. He threw up right next to the bin and he cried even more. The teacher went to his side and helped him up. "Class I'll be back," she called over her shoulder as she led Lucian to the nurses. She past a custodian along the way and told him what happened.

Sherlock lay on the couch staring up at the ceiling completely bored. He grabbed a tennis ball that he didn't know they had and bounced it off the ceiling trying to entertain himself. The phone rang and he glanced at it. He was going to let it ring but it got to him and he answered it. "Hello this is Garibaldi Elementary, I'm looking for a Mr. Watson is he there?" a lady asked sweetly over the phone, Sherlock let his head drop back and groaned.

"No," answered Sherlock dully.

"Oh, then is Mr. Holmes there?" she asked.

Sherlock sighed. "You are speaking with him," he said rolling his eyes. The lady told him about Lucian and asked if he could come pick him up. Sherlock agreed and hung up. He needed to get changed out of his pajamas first.

John looked up at the clock and noticed that the patient should be in any minute now. He fixed up his desk a little bit and went over the chart again. He took a sip of his now cold tea and tried to relax. 'Just one more patient and I can have a break,' he thought with a small smile. He started tapping a pencil on the wood and stared at the door willing it to open.

The door handle turned and John stopped his tapping and sat straight up. In walked Sherlock with Lucian holding onto him for dear life. John's eyes were wide for a few seconds before he called himself stupid for not noticing the name on the chart. "What's wrong?" he asked taking Lucian from Sherlock and putting him on the examining table. John was in between two different states at the moment, doctor state and concerned father state.

"I don't feel good," Lucian stated tiredly. John checked his temperature and looked down his throat. He asked him what didn't feel good. "My head really hurts, and my stomach."

John looked at him and frowned. "Does your throat hurt much?" he asked checking everything else.

Lucian shrugged as he attempted to grab onto John's hand. "I don't feel good," he repeated.

John grabbed his sons hand and smiled a little. "I think you have the flu," he said simply. "I had it the other week and probably gave it to you somehow. Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well this morning?"

Lucian shook his head and lies down on the examining table and shut his eyes. "Lucian wake up," John tried but the five year old didn't wake up at all. "Oh well I'm on break anyway," John sighed as he turned to Sherlock who has been standing there being quiet the whole time. "How are you?"

Sherlock didn't answer at first but pulled him into a hug and gave him a quick kiss. "I was bored most of the day," he told him as he held him to his chest. "I need a good murder."

John laughed and pushed away from him and went to his computer. "Only you would say that line," he stated happily. He clicked on a song that began playing a slow tune. "Mr. Holmes I know this is short notice but would you like to dance with me?" John asked holding out his hand to Sherlock. He could almost see the corners of the others lips twitch upwards.

Before John knew it he was pulled in yet again by Sherlock who held him firmly to his chest. He placed his other hand that wasn't holding John's onto his partner's waist as they started to sway slowly with the music. "Do you really have to ask?" he chuckled; John could hear it from within his chest and smiled.

John shut his eyes; he was no longer dancing to the music but to the rhythm of the strong heart that played the best melody ever.

Nothing could ruin the moment, not even if Sherlock said something stupid like how he had to dress up in drag to get close to a suspect for a case he had ages ago. No nothing, absolutely nothing, well except Sarah walking into the room to give John some more folders.

"Oops I'm sorry didn't know you were still in here," she said, her face was red all the way up to her ears. "Um… I'll just leave these here with you then."

John sighed and reluctantly and grabbed the folders from her. "Thanks," he said puffing out his cheeks as he shut the door. "Well I should be getting ready for my next round of patients. Will you take Lucian home?"

Sherlock let the smile that made its way to his face fall, he was mad with Sarah for interrupting. "Yeah," he said letting out how angry he really was to John. "When are you coming home today?" he asked picking up the light boy.

"Around four," John looked up at him with an apologetic voice. "Make sure to give him some medicine when you guys get home okay, and make sure he doesn't eat much." Sherlock nodded and left the office leaving John to sulk in the lost moment. John sighed and leaned back in his seat; he exited out of YouTube and rubbed his face as he glanced at the next chart.

John went up to the front desk where Sarah was sitting doing something on the computer. "Sorry about earlier," he muttered to her.

She looked up from the screen and tried to put on a smile to cover up how awkward she felt. "When did you have a son?" she asked trying to forget about earlier.

John scratched the back of his neck and looked around. "He was born around six years ago," he told her. "He came into my custody when his mother died a little while ago." Sarah nodded and left it at that. John felt very uncomfortable and decided it would be best to leave.

When he arrived home Sherlock was playing his violin, not his usual scratching noises that sounded like he was strangling a poor animal, but a sweet melody that John knew well and absolutely loved. Sherlock smiled, and watched John with his piercing eyes from the chair. John pushed himself away from the door and sat in between Sherlock's legs on the floor and listened to the music sooth his tired head. He leaned his head against his leg and sat there for the rest of the night as Sherlock played whatever he asked for.

**Yay! I finished it almost a half an hour before twelve at night. That's really good because I need my sleep I almost fell asleep standing up yesterday and had to go to sleep at seven. Anyway yeah I like this one, I like the way I pictured it in my head. I hope you guys like it. Also before I go I just want to state something that I found out not to long ago. There is a man out there named John Holmes, I laughed at that one, I never knew there was such a man. Any way peace out my hommies. BYE! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello people of the world my fingers are quite numb. Not that you needed to know that but they are and it hurts a little to type plus I keep messing up. I'm so happy you guys liked my last chapter all the comments were great. Well I'm going to try and come up with something as good as that but I have no clue what I could do. Anyway bye. **

Lucian woke up to the sound of the alarm that he set for midnight. He sat right up and threw off the sheets. He passed his small calendar, which had a huge circle around the 20th of March, without a second glance. He flew down the stairs almost tripping over a basket full of dirty cloths. He reached the door he was looking for and was about to burst in when he remember his manners.

He politely knocked and when he heard the faint 'come in' he entered. "What is it Lucian?'

" John asked sleepily, he sat up on his elbows and felt Sherlock shift himself also.

"I'm six now!" he said with a small lisp since he was missing his two front teeth. "I'm finally six!" He jumped into the bed with the other two men.

John lazily looked at the clock, which now shined 12:03, and laughed. "Yes you are," he said hugging Lucian. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you daddy," He squealed gripping John's shoulder. He wanted to do everything there was to do right now; he couldn't wait till later in the day. "Can we go make a cake?" he asked excitedly bouncing up and down.

John groaned and lay back down. Lucian started to frown and looked like he was about to cry. "Oh what the heck," John said pulling himself out from under the warm covers. He shivered as his sockless feet hit the wood floor. "Let's go."

Lucian grabbed onto Sherlock's hand and started pulling him. "Come on Sherlock you can make the cake with us too," he stated as he pulled the taller one off the bed and out of the door.

John stared at the cabinets sleepily scanning for cake mix. He rubbed his hand across his face and turned to the ones watching him, be advised they were no help at all. "We have no cake mix," he stated numbly.

"Yes John we know," Sherlock said a small smirk was placed nicely on his face. "We have for the last ten minutes."

John threw his hands up into the air in frustration. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked resembling a mad mother with his hand on his hips and his head cocked slightly to the side. He help up his hand and said, "Never mind it's too early for that right now. Okay everyone get on their shoes, if I'm going to get the stuff you two are coming with me."

They were out the door soon and traveling down the street in their pajamas. Sherlock turned to John with a questioning look. "John can you tell me why you have a towel with you?"

John looked down at the object hanging around his neck. "I was having this weird dream where an alien told me the world was going to end and he handed me a towel before he took us up to this weird ship. So I just had this feeling I should carry a towel on our way out. It may come in handy," he explained.

"That's weird," Lucian stated as he clutched both of their hands. "What could a towel do for you besides dry you off?" John shrugged and continued on in silence.

In the store John stared at the rack that had various cake mixes on their shelves. "What kind of cake do you want?" he asked Lucian who hopping around on the squares that decorated the ground. "Lucian," he lowered his voice.

Lucian stopped; he heard that tone it meant he wasn't in the mood for anything out of line of course it was mostly used for Sherlock who ignored it most of the time that being said made John ignore Sherlock. "Um…vanilla," he said stifling a yawn.

John smiled and grabbed the box. "See that wasn't hard at all," he said and went to go pay for their one object.

The three were on their way home when out of an alley way a man with a knife came. "Give me all your money," he growled.

They all stopped and Sherlock pulled Lucian behind him and John. John could smell the alcohol from the man from where they stood. He took a defensive stance know they wouldn't be getting out of this easily.

The thug lunged towards them when they didn't give him their money, and John was quick to act. He used the towel he grabbed and blocked the knife; he wrapped the towel around the man's wrist and pulled it behind his back.

The man used his head as a weapon now and head butted John right in the nose. He fell back releasing the man. Sherlock took his chance and pinned the guy up against the wall. He made sure to keep his face out of the others range of attack. "John," Sherlock said as he struggled to keep the man still.

John understood what he wanted and pulled out his cell phone. He couldn't see quite straight and pressed a whole bunch of buttons that resembles the number that would hopefully get them the police.

Many groans of pain later John was telling the whole story to the police holding a napkin up to his nose hoping it would stop bleeding soon. Lucian wouldn't let go of his neck as he did so, and Sherlock was being asked the same questions as John, except he wasn't answering them as nicely.

"Look at this," they all turned their heads towards the voice that was so familiar to them. Lestrade stepped up to them. "What happened to you guys?"

"We were almost mugged," John answered groaning as the pain in his head grew. "What are you doing out tonight?"

Lestrade held up a bag that held only one thing. "The wife needed pickles very, very badly," he told them. "Why are you out here at this hour?"

"It's Lucian's birthday today and he wanted to make a cake, we had no cake mix at the house so I rounded everyone up and we took a nice family walk to the store," John explained. "Hey can you give us a lift back to Baker Street?"

Lestrade thought for a second. "Why don't you guys come over? Cindy can't sleep at all and would love the company even if it is you guys," he said smiling. "Plus she can help bake that cake for you guys."

John yawned and leaned against the table he was sitting at. They decided to take Lestrade up on his offer and Cindy was happy to see them.

"So John I heard all about from Greg," Cindy said as she stirred the cake batter. "I take it you're a very good influence on Sherlock."

John raised his brows and had to stop himself from laughing. "Yeah I guess you can say that. I mean he still insults people, not intentionally most of the time, and don't get me started on how many severed body parts I have seen in my kitchen," he told her.

She smiled and laughed. "My, he is a different one isn't he?"

John nodded and chuckled. "Well he still sticks around," Sherlock butted in. "I've been trying to get him to leave for months."

John thwacked him on the arm with a huge smile on his face. Lucian, who fell asleep on the way there, moved in his arms. "It doesn't help that he is practically like him," he added nodding his head towards the child.

"Like father like son I guess," Cindy laughed again.

"Sad thing is I'm his dad," John stated. Cindy stopped laughing and looked at them. "Yes I know they do look a lot alike."

"His mother's family shares a resemblance to my family that's why," Sherlock explain, "she had the same curls that me and my father have."

Lestrade walked into the room rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't go back to sleep," he told everyone and sat down across the table. He took the coffee that was offered to him with a smile. "How's your nose John?"

John took off the ice pack to reveal a purplish nose. "It kills but I don't think it's broken," he said, he sounded like he had a very bad stuffy nose.

A ding on the oven took everyone's attention off of the card they started playing. "Yay the cake is done," Cindy said eagerly.

"Sherlock," Lestrade started, "do you have any twos?"

"Go fish," the detective said with his usual low voice. He laughed when Lestrade's face fell when he didn't get what he wanted. He turned to Lucian, who was now awake and who suggested the game, and stared at him. "Lucian do you have any queens?"

Lucian groaned and handed him the queen he had in his hand. "Every time," he huffed.

"Come on now Lucian don't be like that," John told him as he patted his back. "But what I really want to know is do you have any fours?"

Lucian face fell even more and handed him his last card. John jumped up and put down his last two cards with a triumphant smile. "I'm out," he stated proudly.

The others put down their remaining cards and started to count their pairs. "I have four," Lestrade told them.

Sherlock put on a smug face before saying, "five."

John laughed at the two of them. "I have seven," he said.

Lucian jumped out of his chair with a wide smile on his face. "I have one more than you daddy," he said laughing as John slumped back into his chair.

"Cindy honey you have three," Lestrade yelled informing his wife she lost. She came back in with a cake that was frosted and had six burning candles on it.

They all started singing happy birthday to Lucian who looked like he was vibrating with excitement in his seat. "Thank you," he said to everyone after he blew out his candles.

"Do you want me to go wake up Kenny so he could have some cake too?" Lestrade asked. Cindy nodded and he went to go get his son.

The three boys settled into the flat again at six in the morning. John stood up announcing he would be back and went to go grab something, he came back with a wrapped package.

"This is your present," he said tiredly handing Lucian the box.

Lucian carefully opened the one and only present and gave out a squeal as he revealed a skeleton set. "I can learn all the bones in the body now!" he yelled hugging both John and Sherlock. "Thank you guys."

Sherlock smiled and didn't say anything as John said, "I knew you would like it."

Lucian looked down at the box one more time and smiled. "This is the best birthday I've had so far. Mummy never went to the store at midnight to get me a cake, and she most certainly never defeated a mugger with a towel," he said frowning as he remembered his mother.

"Don't expect me to get mugged every time it's your birthday," John fake the sternness in his voice as he wagged his finger. Lucian laughed, John stood up and stretched. "I say we all go and try to sleep some more before we do anything else today."

Sherlock locked his arms around John and buried his head in his shoulder. "Good night," he said through a rare yawn, he shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

"I told you the towel would come in handy."

**Hey guys I'm really tired right now and I have finals tomorrow so I'm not going to say much. I hope you like it and enjoyed their little game. Um…yeah not much else to say so good night or good morning or good afternoon who knows when you're reading this. BYE!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I don't understand why I start these so late at night when I know I'm tired. Oh well, I guess that's how I roll. Okay so here is the next chapter of my only work to reach into double digits in chapters. Yay! It's fun to write this. I'm going to tell you the ending right now they all get nuked by aliens from outer space because Sherlock was to awesome and was great threat, also because he looked like the Doctors long lost brother from fairyland. Yeah I don't know what that was but it definitely wasn't the ending to this story. I hope you enjoy it, bye.**

Sherlock lifted his head from the couch and stared at the yellow smiley face that has yet to clean itself up. He smiled and dropped his head again and turned to the television. He was watching some game show; he was bored with it but still didn't shut it off. He stared at the dull people as they answered questions like 'What is the Disney character Pluto?'.

"You're still in the same spot?" John asked astonished though he should have known by now that he lived with Sherlock and he did weird things.

Sherlock thought back through the day, a suspect from a case showed up at his house and tried to kill him and he fought him off with an old book that no one ever read anymore. He decided it would be good for his health if he didn't tell John about that. "Well I did move," he said after a moment.

John shook his head and went into the kitchen. "Where's Lucian?" he asked as he prepared some tea.

"I believe he is downstairs with Mrs. Hudson playing a game," he turning his head to watch the shorter man as he tried to clean up.

"Great you believe he's down there," John said sarcastically. "You don't know he's down there."

"I do know he's down there John," Sherlock said putting an emphasis on the word 'do'.

"Whatever," John said walking over to the couch. "Move your legs Twiglet." Sherlock lifted his legs and placed them on John's lap as he sat down. "What have you been doing all day?"

Sherlock motioned to the TV with his hand as he made an angry face. "I've been so bored!" he groaned loudly.

John patted his legs and watched the game show. "Why don't you watch soap operas? They'll definitely keep you on your toes," he laughed. "'Oh my god Kenny's dead now who will be the father of my baby,'" he said in a girly voice. "'I got news for you Candy…I'm your babies daddy,'" he said in a very deep voice.

The whole time Sherlock stared at him. "What was that?" he asked both his of eyebrows raised.

John waved his hand. "It's what soap operas are all about. Everyone sleeps with each other they have their kids and they get shot only to come back in the next season as the evil twin brother or something like that," he explained plainly.

Sherlock nodded and just turned back to the TV. "Well pretty soon John the murderers will come back and I won't be bored anymore," he said tiredly.

"Only you," John said shaking his head as he read a book he found on the ground.

"Check," Lucian said slyly as he and Sherlock played chess.

Sherlock scanned the board for his next move. He took his knight and took out his queen that was presenting the threat.

"Ha!" Lucian yelled and moved another piece. "Check mate, you can't get out of this one Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded as he surveyed the board. "Congratulations you beat me," he said. "It is now 56-1."

The smile faltered on Lucian's face but then came back full blast. "Can I use your phone?" he asked bouncing in his spot on the floor. Sherlock pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to the six year old. "Hello, daddy?"

"Yes Lucian?" John answered back.

"I beat Sherlock in a game of chess!" he practically yelled into the phone. "The score is 56-1 now."

"That's my boy," John stated proudly. "I have to go now got a patient to examine. Bye."

"Bye I love you," he squealed into the phone.

"Love you too," he said before hanging up. He hand the phone back to Sherlock who just laughed.

"Is there any more gloating you want to do?" he asked. "There's Mrs. Hudson downstairs."

"Great idea," Lucian said before he was out of the room and telling Mrs. Hudson the great news.

John hung up the phone just as the new patient walked in. "Hello Grace nice to see you looking better," he said as he moved closer to the examining table.

"Yes I know. I'm feeling lots better than I was," she told him through a slightly stuffed nose.

John smiled and did the usual doctor routine. "Well everything seems to be just fine. Do you still have that cough?" he asked. She shook her head and he nodded. "Good, good, I think that's it then. Just go to the front desk and pay there."

She got up and went to the door. "You know doctor since I'm better would you like to go out to dinner or something?" she asked twirling her hair.

"Do you want to know something funny?" he asked, she nodded and smiled. "My son one a chess game today."

She laughed. "I don't care if you have children, as long as you're not married," she told him.

"But here's the kicker," he laughed. "He beat my genius boyfriend."

Her smile fell and turned a light shade of red. "Oh that is funny doctor well I must be going," she scurried off and John laughed.

John got home and heard something hit the floor. He bolted up the stairs only to see Sherlock dropping heavy objects onto the floor. "What are you doing?" John asked as he took the lamp out of his hands.

"I'm bored," was all Sherlock stated, "and I couldn't find your gun." He flopped himself onto the couch.

"Thank god," John said under his breath. "You didn't get any calls from Lestrade?" he asked as he started picking up the many object on the floor.

"No," as he said that he got a text. "Let's go John," he said as he got up from the couch, John sighed happily.

"Lucian?" he yelled.

"Yeah?" the six years old popped his head out at the top of the stairs.

"We're going out, Mrs. Hudson is downstairs if you need her," he yelled to him as he followed Sherlock out of the flat. "Mrs. Hudson?"

"Yes John?" she asked opening her door.

"Lucian's up stairs if you can just keep an eye on him that would be great," John said giving her a grateful hug.

"Of course dearie," she said.

"Come on John," Sherlock said impatiently from the door. John smiled towards Mrs. Hudson before he shouted goodbye to Lucian and was out of the door.

"You know what Sherlock?" John asked as he sat across from the other in the cab. Sherlock just made a sound telling him he was listening. "I was yet again asked out. This patient wanted to go out for dinner now that she was no longer sick."

"They shouldn't, wear a mask so they will stop," Sherlock told him sternly.

John laughed. "Are you jealous of the people who ask me out?" he asked watching Sherlock turn to him slowly.

"Of course not," he said smoothly. "Only idiots get jealous."

He had to stop himself from laughing because they were pulling up to the crime scene. They got out of the cab after paying the cabbie. "Exactly," he whispered into Sherlock's ear as he held back his laughter.

**Hey there, this is it the next chapter. I hope you like it; I really had no clue what to write so I just came up with random things. Next chapter will definitely be up very soon because I was given loads of free time. Well enjoy yourselves I'm most likely going to bed. BYE!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone I'm working on the last few chapter of this thing but don't be sad it's still not almost over I think, I'm not sure yet. But yeah so that means it will be ending and this would be the first story I've ever finished I feel accomplished, now only if I knew how to spell better. Anyway here is the next chapter I hope you guys enjoy it. **

Lucian sat in the living room chair upside down as he watched cartoons. "Why did he hit the mouse with a frying pan?" he asked. "Where did the mouse get the dynamite?" he yelled. "Mice aren't supposed to be able to carry something like that around." He was beyond confused with the ridicules cat and mouse show.

Sherlock walked in and hit his feet down. "Get your shoes on we have to get some files from Lestrade," he told him as he tied his own shoes; Lucian nodded and did as he was told.

On their way Lucian kept bouncing all around the cab. "Can we get some ice cream?" he asked right in Sherlock's ear.

"No," Sherlock said smoothly, he doesn't care for personal space much himself. "Will you buckle up?"

Lucian flopped down on the seat and buckled his seatbelt. "Fine," he said as he crossed his arms and started pouted. "What kind of files do you have to get?"

Sherlock slid his eyes over to the child then back to the street outside the window. "A file from the cold case section, every so often I take one and see if I can solve it," he explained. "Come on." They got out of the cab and enter the police building.

Lucian watched through the glass as Sherlock and Lestrade talked. He was sitting at someone desk looking at everything. "What are you doing?" Donavon asked, Lucian turned in the chair and saw her with her hands on her hips.

"How is your dad?" he asked.

She dropped her arms and just stared at him. "Why do you want to know about my dad?" she asked looking around to see if anyone was listening.

"Well he's sick isn't he," he said and got out of his chair. "I was wondering if he might be feeling any better."

"You're Sherlock's kid aren't you?" she asked looking over to Sherlock who was still in the office with her boss. "I don't want to talk to anyone who lives the freak."

Lucian shook his head took a step closer to her and hugged her around the knees. "Tell your dad I hope he feels better," he whispered so only she could hear. She went stiff, then awkwardly patting his back. "Tell him I believe he has a strong heart and can live for so much longer."

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Are we ready to leave Lucian?" he asked looking Donovan up and down, to him she looked absolutely scared.

Lucian smiled and let go of Donavon. "Bye," he said and waved as they left.

"What was that about?" Anderson asked as he came over with a coffee in each hand. "Did the little demon say something to you? Last time I saw him he told me I sounded like I was trying too hard, I swear he gets that from Sherlock."

Donavon shook herself and grabbed one of the coffees. "Good for you," she said quietly. "I'll be back."

Anderson turned and gave her a weird look as she walked past him. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I need to call my dad," she told him and left.

"Can we get ice cream now?" Lucian asked as they passed the same ice cream place on the way back to the flat.

Sherlock looked at him and sighed. "Stop here," he said to the cabbie. "Come on let's get go."

Lucian bounced out of the cab and walked across the street while Sherlock paid.

"I think I'm going to get chocolate," he told Sherlock as they waited in line. "Are you going to get some?"

"No," he answered as he glanced over the file. "That doesn't seem right," he mumbled to himself. They got up to the counter and Sherlock shut the manila folder. "One small chocolate ice cream," he said to the cashier.

"With jimmies please," Lucian said as he tried to peak over the counter to see everything going on.

"Don't touch that please," Sherlock said as he read the case file back at the flat. He was only halfway through all the details.

Lucian sat back on the couch licking his ice cream cone. "I was just wondering why there wasn't much blood where they found the body, and why there was barely any when they found out where he was murdered," he told him defensively.

"Yeah that's where the police got stumped to," Sherlock told him. "That's why I'm looking at it."

"Can I help?" he asked sweetly trying to put on a puppy dog face. "Please?"

Sherlock looked over the page he just finished reading again. "When you're done eating your ice cream," he told him.

Lucian smiled and took three huge bites out of his cone. "Ow, ow, ow brain freeze," he cried as he held his head. Sherlock chuckled to himself and just continued reading.

John climbed the stair tiredly after a long day at work. He just wanted some tea and a nice relaxing night. Scratch that he wanted to chase some criminal around London at top speed until they got to him or the police did, and then he wanted some tea.

"What was the mysterious hole in his shoulders?" Lucian asked as he handed Sherlock a picture. "They say they found no gun or any shells at either scene. Those were the only wounds on the body and the cause of death they say."

"Exactly," Sherlock stated as he looked over the picture like he was looking at the body itself. "Some kind of stake maybe?" he asked.

"Maybe they thought he was a werewolf?" Lucian suggested, Sherlock waved him off and place the photo on the ground with the others. John noticed that all the pictures together on the floor made up a body with some parts missing. "It was just a suggestion; maybe the killers were part of some cult.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Sherlock said and patted the small child on the head.

"What are you guys doing?" John asked the two jumped a little they didn't notice John walk in at first.

"We're solving a cold case," Lucian said with a small lisp due to lack of some teeth. "Sherlock said I could help!"

"Oh really that's fun," John said. He walked into the kitchen and started making tea.

Sherlock pulled out his phone and started searching cults around the world that could fit the murder. Lucian stared at him waiting for anything to help. The detective jumped up with a great big smile. "I found them, there's a group that stakes their victims to a tree by their two shoulders and as the blood drains collects it in containers," he announced, Lucian clapped happily and John shook his head. "You weren't far off with your werewolf theory, they believed themselves to be vampires and drink the blood after it is all drained."

"That's gross," Lucian stated. "Where do they gather?" he asked. Sherlock showed him the phone and Lucian nodded. "Yay we're going to catch vampires!"

"I would love to ask them some questions," Sherlock stated as he texted Lestrade a long text message, many idiots added, on who the killers were.

'They are mine I guess,' John thought with a shake of his head as he drank his tea.

**This one is a short one, I think, but I like it, sort of, and that's good, I hope. Anyway it's quite hot in here and guess what it's not some weird time yay. So yeah I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful life. Oh wait I have to say something else but I don't know what wait a second. Oh yes I'm leaving for the best place in the world, in my opinion, to see some of the best people in the world next week yay. So yeah…BYE! **


	14. Chapter 14

**I personally am glad I started this and decided to post it up tonight because I wanted to get it over with. I don't know what else to say to you guys except thank you for all the reviews so far 32 as I write this, that has surpassed any of my other stories and I'm happy because I secretly don't like the other ones. Anyway I hope you enjoy the chapter. **

Moriarty sat at his coffee table reading up on the last murder that the police solved, with help of the only consulting detective in the world Sherlock Holmes. He had papers spread all over the living room every one of them had something to do with Holmes in some small way. Jim laughed as he read 'The police solved the case with little help from Sherlock Holmes', he knew that Holmes was a genius and that he did more than help on the case, he most likely solved it.

"The perfect plan to bring you to your knees Holmes," he laughed. He stood and dropped the paper to the couch. Walking into the kitchen he made himself some coffee and stared at the little cat trinkets that filled the living room. He wanted to throw them all out but every time he was going to do it, the cursed things mocked him. They were truly evil, they would laugh at him as he slept or when he was running off to do something. But they never mocked him when he was thinking about his plan, because they knew that he had a full proof plan. No one would notice when he kidnapped the person in his sights or know who killed the man. Well hopefully Holmes would because if he didn't there wouldn't be any fun in killing him.

Jim went over the plan many times in his head before laughing again. "Who knew killing could be so much fun," he said to himself.

He left his flat wearing his usual hat, shades and the newspaper he was reading earlier and started his way towards a certain DI's house. He was determined to learn everything about every person that Holmes was connected to and Lestrade was next on his list. Not like he needed to get rid of him or anything he just needed Sherlock to believe he did. It was all part of his very big plan you see, he needed everything set, especially if he was going to put his plan into action in the next few days.

Moriarty reached the house and sat on a bench across the street; he opened his newspaper and started to 'read' it as he watched the house closely. He smiled at an old lady who was sitting next to him who was looking at him with a weird look. "Young people and their hats," she mumbled going back to her knitting.

Later the judging old lady was long gone and Jim Moriarty was bored. He had to admit he believed Lestrade and his family were the most boring people on the whole planet. He checked his watch and noted it was one in the afternoon. From his previous investigations of the family his wife should be coming home with their son. He watched them enter the house without a second glance at him, either he was really good at blending in or these people failed to recognize someone keeping an eye on them.

The next day as he sat at the same bench, after Cindy and her son arrived home, she decided to go talk with Jim. "Hello sir," she said sweetly as she sat down next to him.

Moriarty didn't panic; he put on his best smile and put down the day's news paper. "Hello there," he said almost as sweetly as her.

"Not to be rude of course, but I notice that you sit on this bench for hours every day and was just wondering, why?" she asked trying not to sound so suspicious.

Jim nodded and gave her a knowing look. "You're not being rude at all," he told her. "Well if you want to know the truth, this is where me and my mother used to play when I was younger and you see she's very sick and in the hospital. She is in a very good hospital quite a ways from here. Now I know what you're thinking 'Why don't you move closer to her?' But I can't do to my job."

"Then why do you sit here for such a long time?" she asked.

"Well I was getting there," he said to her. "I get out of work sometime around noon and I come here to wait for the bus, but the only bus that comes is at eight at night. I decided to stay here because it brings back so many memories of me and my mom."

Cindy frowned. "I'm sorry for asking I'll let you get back to your business now," she said getting up and leaving. When she was in her house and out of sight Jim started laughing quietly. He couldn't believe that story work; he didn't even know who his mother was.

On his way home he couldn't stop smiling, he had the last piece of his plan set in place and he was ready to strike. Tomorrow he was going to watch Baker Street one more time and make sure everyone was going to be in their place when he needed them there. He had to be sure nobody was going to break the rules of the game they didn't know they were playing.

He dreamt of his plan that night, and how smoothly it would run. How the almighty hero Sherlock Holmes would crumble under him and pay for what he did. During his glorious dream no cat mocked him, they were too afraid, too afraid of how powerful he truly was and how he could crush them to.

**Well I'm not completely satisfied with it but oh well I wrote it and I'm posting it no matter what I say. I like the cats; I believe they're a little work for employed by Sherlock to drive Moriarty insane. That would be cool, anyways next chapter might be up this week like I said a lot of time on my hands and no where to put it. Oh and I don't put much thought into these little chapters, only the chapters where everything is going down I have been working for a while ever since I figured out my ending. Before I forget I want to tell you guys, I have no clue what I'm doing here, I mean with writing I know where I'm going, so I'm sorry if you think I'm a bad writer and don't want to tell me, you do have suffer through this though so yeah. Anyway I do hope you enjoy this and the future chapters and of course the past chapters, BYE!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello I'm back for all of you. First of I want to ask you guys a question. In The Blind Banker, when Sherlock is fight that guy with the sword, how did he leave, did he just get up and leave apologizing to Sherlock or did Sherlock throw him out, or did he sneak out? I would love to find out the answer to that because it has been nagging me for a while now. Okay now that I have that question out in the open I don't have any others. I hope you enjoy this chapter very much because I know it's going to be hard for me to write it. See ya!**

_John watch as the bodies fell all around him. He couldn't reach all of them and all he could hear was their screams of pain. His friend looked over at him with a smile, and all of a sudden everything was in slow motion. John looked out into the battle field and saw a bullet flying through the air, he noted that it was flying straight towards his friend. He lifted himself up from the stained sand and sprinted as fast as he could, he barreled into his friend just as the bullet was about to take its fatal blow. He screamed in pain as the bullet pierced through the skin and muscles in his shoulder._

_ John looked down at the blood that was already pouring out of his shoulder. When he looked back up he was no longer in Afghanistan but in the pool room where he fought Moriarty. He felt the familiar weight of the c4 that he was wearing. He looked around and noticed he was alone._

_ "John wake up," he heard the memorable deep voice of his partner. He looked around and saw a faint glow right by the pool. "Come on John wake up," he said again. _

_ "I can't," John choked out, Sherlock came into full view and John saw that he was carrying his gun. "Why are we here again?"_

_ "Come on Daddy wake up," he heard Lucian say; to John he sounded way to close. He looked down and saw his child in his arms. "Why isn't he waking up?" _

_ "I don't know," Sherlock stated and turned to face the other end of the pool. _

_ John whispered to Lucian that he was going to put him down and that he had to run over to Sherlock. "I wouldn't do that Johnny-boy," the voice of his least favorite person shouted out behind him. "If you set that boy down I will blow all three of you up."_

_ John held Lucian close to his chest. "He has nothing to do with you Moriarty, why is he here?" he yelled back to him. All he got in response was a cold laugh that sounded forced. "Just let him go," he tried to reason._

_ "Wake up," Sherlock whispered to him._

_ "Why are you telling me to wake up?" John yelled, Sherlock didn't flinch he just kept his gun aimed at Moriarty. _

_ "Unfortunately I can't stand this again, so I'm just going to end your lives right now," Moriarty said as he clapped his hands. "I'm sorry but Sherly you are getting to boring with this sweet little family of yours. So…" he paused and glanced at John. "Bye-bye," he sang. _

_ A shot rang out and Sherlock fell to the ground. "Sherlock!" John screamed as he almost dropped Lucian. He heard the little boy whisper something into his ear but he didn't catch it, he couldn't hear anything other than the maniacal laughter from the man that just ended Sherlock Holmes life. _

_ "Well now that he's gone it's your turn," he started, "Dr. John Watson." John turned and was pretty sure he was crying but he didn't care. "Say bye to your daddy little boy."_

_ "Wake up," was all Lucian said. _

_ John felt something hit his chest and everything went black. He couldn't feel anything, no pain, no sadness, nothing. He felt himself start shaking and his eyes shot open. _

"Oh thank god," Sherlock said as he squeezed John's hand. "I thought you were never going to wake up."

John calmed his breathing down and looked to his left. Lucian was sitting there looking a little scared. "You were screaming," he told John. "I thought you were hurt but Sherlock told me you were just having a nightmare."

John smiled and him and stood up. "I need to use the bathroom," he told them and he left the room.

Sherlock sighed and noticed that John was limping again. "Someone must have died," he mumbled out loud. Lucian looked up at him with a questioning look. "Come on Lucian let's try to fix something up for dinner I don't think John is up to it." Lucian was surprised at Sherlock's willing to cook. "He'll most likely be in the bathroom for an hour so we have time."

"What are we going to make?" the six year old asked as he bounced into the kitchen after the tall detective. "I think Mac and cheese would be the best."

John walked out of the bathroom feeling better after his shower. He was clean shaven smelled like the very bad soap that they could just barely afford and the cheap cologne he got for Christmas from his sister when he was twelve. He smelt something that was just awful, and even worse was it was coming from the kitchen. 'That's a very bad sign,' he thought.

He walked into the kitchen and saw both Sherlock and Lucian covered in macaroni and powdered cheese. "What the heck happened here?" he asked looking at the even messier kitchen.

Sherlock pointed to Lucian just as Lucian pointed at him. "He did it," they said in unison.

John shook his head and started to laugh; he turned and walked out of the room. "Come on let's go to Angelo's," he said through laughs. "I never want you two to cook again, understand me?"

Lucian nodded as he grabbed a hold of John's hand; he smiled down at him and started their walk down the street. "What's that smell?" Lucian asked as he sniffed his father's hand.

John laughed again and shrugged. "It's a very old Christmas gift that my sister gave to me," he explained. "I never thought I would use it and decided to tonight for some odd reason."

"So what was your bad dream about?" Lucian asked as he stopped picking at his chicken nuggets.

Sherlock stopped his own picking and looked at John who stopped chewing. He cleared his throat and swallowed his food. "Well, first I was fighting back in the war, then I was at a pool," he told them with a forced smile and went back to eating. He could feel them still staring as he ate so he stopped. "Moriarty was back," he knew he was going to have to tell them, "I had the bomb strapped to my chest and I was holding Lucian, I couldn't put him down or we all would be blown up. In the end Moriarty got tired of Sherlock and shot him, then killed me and Lucian."

"Oh," was all Lucian said, he frowned and went back to poking his food with a straw. "I'm sorry you had a bad dream."

Sherlock reached across the table and took hold of John's hand. John looked up and tried to smile. "So how the heck did you make the macaroni explode?" he asked as he squeezed his hand.

Sherlock looked away for a second then back to the man sitting across from him. "That's classified John, I can't tell you," he said seriously. "And before you ask, yes an experiment fell into it and it was better that it exploded."

John put down his fork and covered his face with his free hand. He was aware that other people were watching as he laughed loudly but he didn't care, he was perfectly fine being marked down as a lunatic in their books. "I chose you that's all I have to remember."

"John I believe you have gone completely mad," Sherlock told him, "because I chose you." Something wet hit Sherlock in the face and he looked down to see a green bean in his lap. "Lucian did you just fling your green bean at me?"

Lucian looked at his plate innocently and munched at his dinosaurs chicken nuggets. "I didn't do anything," he said in his sweetest voice.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked at his plate. "No Sherlock, we don't want to be kicked out," John warned. Sherlock dropped his spoon full of mash potatoes and smiled towards Lucian. "Lucian don't throw your food in a restaurant again."

"Yes sir," Lucian saluted as he stuffed his mouth. He caught Sherlock still staring at him and knew something was going to happen when John was out tomorrow.

John entered the flat after a day at work. He opened the door and saw Lucian hiding behind a couch cushion. Before John could get out anything Lucian said, "I betrayed King Sherlock last night and now he had launched a war." John looked over to his chair and saw it covered with various sticky items.

"John step away from the trader and take this," Sherlock ordered him from behind the chair.

John stepped over all the things on the floor towards Sherlock and gave him a stern look. "What no crown?" he asked putting his hands on his hips.

"No the evil one over there ruined it with milk," he explained and tried to hand John the eggs.

"The milk? I just bought tha- oh never mind," he gave up and went to put away the new groceries he bought. "I will not be a part of this," he told them both. "I am going to take a shower, and go get some much needed sleep."

As he shut the door to the bathroom he heard Lucian yell and Sherlock swear and then something hit the wall. "I will not be defeated!" Lucian yelled before throwing left over Chinese food.

"I need a vacation," John mumbled.

**I hope you guys like it because I don't know what that was. I like it to tell you the truth, it was very nice. It was fun to picture in my head, imagine Lucian picking up a jar of eyes and throwing them that would be disastrous. Okay enough of that. I think I'm going to go now, again I hope you enjoyed it. BYE! **


	16. Chapter 16

** Hi people, how are you? That's good. Well I just wanted to tell you something weird, I had a dream with Benedict Cumberbatch in it and he was telling people about this theater place where you only ate and a dream the next night with Robert Downey JR in it where he was my uncle. If you ask me I think that is very weird, and maybe should lay off Sherlock Holmes for a while. Now do you think I would do that? No. Anyways I'm leaving tomorrow at four am and am going on a two week vacation. Yay that will be fun. So yeah, I hope you enjoy this chapter, see ya.**

"Are you ready Peter?" Lucian asked as he got into his racing stance.

Peter took a deep breath in as he copied his friend. "I am determined to beat you," he told him between labored breaths.

"Dad will you do the pleasures?" Lucian yelled to John who was sitting on a bench not too far away.

John looked up from his newspaper. "Ready, set," he paused to laugh at how serious they looked, "go!"

Lucian took off ahead of Peter but not by much, Peter was close behind trying his best to catch up. They rounded the tree and were on their way back to the finish line. Peter was sure he saw Lucian slow down and thought he was going to win the race for the first time. But as soon as he was about to overtake the six year old he sped up and won yet again.

"No…fair," Peter whined as he tried to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry Peter," Lucian apologized and patted him on the back. "You almost beat me."

"Boys!" John yelled up the stairs to the two who were up in Lucian's room, "Sherlock is here with the food."

"Tell me why I had to get the food again," Sherlock said as he entered the room.

John pulled him down and kissed him. "Because you ruined the stove," he reminded him.

The two boys bounced into the room as smiles. "Can Peter stay over?" Lucian asked sweetly.

John looked over towards Sherlock who looked like he could care less, which was the look he usually had on. "Sure I can't see why not," he shrugged. "Just make sure it's okay with his parents first."

"Great, here use this phone," Lucian said as he handed him John's phone.

John checked his pockets and stared wide eyed at his son. "How did you get my phone?"

"He learns well," Sherlock whispered into his ear.

John spun around and sent a not so threatening glare towards him. "I would like it if you didn't teach my son how to steal," he told him with a wag of the finger.

"I didn't steal just borrowed," Lucian told him. Sherlock started laughing saying something along the lines of him almost being the second him.

"My dad said I can" Peter announced as he walked back into the room. "Here you go Dr. Watson."

They all settled into their seats and started eating. "If you lived here you would eat more Chinese food that and average person a week," Lucian told Peter the interesting fact as they sat in front of the TV.

"Don't you guys ever cook?" Peter asked turning to the adults of the house.

John started laughing hysterically. "I would cook if we ever had food in the house," he stated. "Unfortunately we don't especially with these two who go through it like mad men."

"So they eat all the food?" Peter asked.

John laughed even louder. "No they barely eat. It's just that they use the food for non food activities," he said, he had to wipe his eyes from the tears that were forming because of the laughter. "I'm the only one that eats around here."

"Do you want a drink?" Lucian asked suddenly, Peter nodded. "Follow me."

Peter followed him to the fridge and waited for him to open it. "Hold on," Sherlock shouted as he jumped up from the couch and into the kitchen. "I'll get you guys your drinks."

"Sherlock what's in the refrigerator?" John asked casually from the couch.

"Nothing illegal," he assured. "Now what would you like? Be advised we don't have milk.

"Juice," Lucian told him and Peter just nodded.

"Off you go then," he said and then turned to the fridge.

As Lucian and Peter were laying down trying to sleep the younger one asked, "What do you think is in the fridge?"

Peter sat up and looked at his friend. "I don't want to find out, whatever it is Mr. Holmes doesn't want us to find out," he told him truthfully.

Lucian got out of his bed and crept to the door. "So you're telling me you don't want to go and see it?" he asked with a sly smile, Peter nodded vigorously. "Suit yourself." He left the room quietly leaving the visitor all by himself.

Peter silently argued with himself before getting up and walking to the door. "Lucian?" he whispered down the stairs.

"Shh, come on," Lucian said and gestured for him to follow.

Sherlock stop I'm trying to sleep," John complained as Sherlock attacked his neck with his mouth.

"But I can't sleep," he admitted.

John covered his mouth so he couldn't speak anymore. "Do you hear that?" he asked earning a muffled answer from his boyfriend. "I believe the boys are up." He got another muffled response and he rolled his eyes. He pulled himself away from the warm bed and out of his room.

John walked silently to the kitchen doorway. He watched as Lucian and innocent looking Peter were staring up at the fridge. "Okay you keep watch because my dad is like a ninja," Lucian whispered.

John let himself feel proud for a second before stating loudly, "The ninja has arrived." He stepped further into the kitchen as the two young ones turned around.

"Good evening daddy," Lucian said trying to use the cute act on him.

John ignored that and looked down at his hand. "Lucian Anthony Watson what are you doing up," he glanced at the clock, "at 4:36 in the morning?"

"Well that's hard to explain…" Lucian started.

"You can't look at what's in the fridge remember Sherlock said no," John told him standing in between the two and the fridge. "Now if you'll kindly go back upstairs and try to get some sleep."

"John!" Sherlock yelled from the bedroom. John sighed loudly. "Lestrade is here."

"I'm starting to hate criminals," John mumbled as he turned to the door as it was knocked on. "Come in," John sang in an annoyed tone. "You can join all this fun too."

"There's a head in the fridge," Lucian yelled as he finally got the door open.

"Really?" Peter asked as he tried to get a look.

"Sherlock!" John yelled slamming the fridge door.

"Lucian I told you not to go in there," Sherlock said as he entered the kitchen.

Lestrade cleared his throat. "What?" John yelled turning to the surprised detective. "Sorry, so sorry. What's wrong?"

"There's been another murder, the victim was killed the same way as the other except it wasn't a male this time," The DI informed him.

"That doesn't sound like the killer," Sherlock thought out loud.

"Yeah that's why I need you," Lestrade sighed. "Or that's why we need you but the others won't own up to needing you."

"You weren't kidding about the whole consulting detective thing were you?" Peter asked everyone turned to him.

"Nope," Lucian said proudly.

"Cool," Peter said. "Can we go to the crime scene with you?"

"No," John stated. "What would you tell your dad? 'We ate Chinese food, oh and I helped solve a murder mystery.' That will go over well."

"I won't tell him," hope was evident in the boys pleads. "Please."

"No," John told in his 'that's it that's all' voice. "I'll just stay home for this one." He saw Sherlock's face fall.

"I'll meet you there just give me the address," Sherlock said as he got on his shoes. "Are you sure we can't leave them here? I really need you there."

"No Sherlock, that also won't go over well with his parent's either," John pointed out.

"Fine," Sherlock said. "Well I should get going."

John grabbed him by the arm before he could exit. "Now don't get yourself killed while I'm not there to stop it okay," he told him before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I might have to kill you if that would happen."

"Will keep that in mind," Sherlock smiled. "Got to go."

"Alright boys," John said as he turned around. "I can't go to sleep now, it doesn't look like you two are going to sleep anytime soon, so Lucian what can you deduce?"

"Movies?" he questioned, John clapped his hands happily and laughed.

Sherlock's mind was everywhere as he tried to figure out why the serial killer broke his pattern. Five men tortured before being killed why start on women. "It doesn't make sense," he mumbled to himself. "She's not from around here."

"What?" Lestrade asked as he was pulled out of his notes.

"She's from America, she's staying here with a friend," he told him.

"What's going on here?" a guy's voice came just outside the room. "Shay?"

"That must be him," Sherlock stated as he stood and turned to the doorway.

The man came in a paled at the sight of his friend. "Oh my god, what happened?" he asked turning to the DI.

Lestrade was about to explain but Sherlock cut him off. "Mr. Kent what was your friend doing here?" he asked.

"She was staying here while she stayed in England," he explained.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes I know that, I mean why did she come to England?" he asked.

Mr. Kent swallowed. "She didn't tell me, all she said was that she was coming and needed a place to stay," he said truthfully.

"Do you know where her pictures are?" Sherlock asked getting on to another point.

"Pictures?" Mr. Kent looked confused.

Sherlock held back a groan. "Yes pictures. She has seven empty film cartridges in her pocket and I don't see any pictures around," he told them.

"I don't know about any pictures," he explained to him. "She barely stayed here, she would leave in the morning and come back late at night."

"Not her first time here," he thought out loud, "she wouldn't be taking pictures of any of the sights." He sat in silence for a moment. "What would she be taking so many pictures of?"

"Where were you?" Lestrade asked Mr. Kent.

"I was at a party," he told him. "I got a call from a neighbor saying there were police in my flat, so I came to see what was up."

"She didn't go with you?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"No, Shay said she had someone to meet tonight, she wouldn't say who it was," he explained.

Lestrade turned to Sherlock. "What do you think?"

Sherlock smirked like he usually did when he knew something. "I think she was keeping an eye on our killer. I believe she took pictures catching him in the act and he found out," he told them. "We'll never find out who the killer is if we don't have the pictures she took."

"And we won't find the pictures unless we find the killer," Lestrade stated as he rubbed his face.

"Wrong," Sherlock practically sang. "There are only seven cartridges in her pocket, the box says eight, there is one missing," he told them as he held up a box that used to hold film.

"He could have heard someone and got spooked and took it with him," Lestrade offered.

Sherlock shook his head. "Look at the room, it's a mess. He looked everywhere for it and couldn't find it, clearly his torture didn't work on her," he said. "We need to find that other cartridge."

"Alright everyone," Lestrade announced to his crew, "we're looking for a film cartridge that looks like these."

"Okay guys this is our fifth movie," John announced as he came into the living room with three plates of toast. "Anyone tired yet?" The two boys shook their heads as they took their toast. "I am so lucky that it's Saturday."

"When is Sherlock going to be home?" Lucian asked as he stretched out on the couch.

"I already am home," Sherlock said walking into the flat.

"You were gone for a while," John stated.

"I was working on the case," he told him. "Up all night watching movies I see," he said as he eyed the stack of movies.

"Yep," John sighed. "What about the case?"

"The victim was killed because she got pictures of the killer," Sherlock explained, he dropped himself on the couch. "I spent most of my time searching for one set the killer didn't take."

"Did you find them?" he asked. Sherlock shook his head and sighed.

"I searched everywhere around the place she was staying at. There was no sign of the missing photos," he said. John patted him on the knee and left him to think.

An hour later John announced he was going to sleep. "I won't guarantee that I won't pull my gun on you if you try and wake me up," he yawned.

Sherlock waved him off and kept thinking. His phone went off and he answered it immediately. "Yes?"

"Sherlock, there's something Mr. Kent forgot to mention earlier," Lestrade said over the phone. "Apparently the victim kept saying your name and how she had to get something to you."

Sherlock straightened up and asked, "Why would she need me?"

"Don't know Holmes," he said. "Listen I got to get back to work."

Sherlock hung up before anything else could be said. "What was she trying to get to me?" he asked himself.

"Peter's father is here," Mrs. Hudson yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

A big hairy man walked through his door. He looked around the room before settling his gaze on Sherlock. "I'm here for Peter," he grumbled.

"Yes I would assume so since you are his father," Sherlock remarked.

Peter's father looked like he was angry and about to start shouting. "I'll get him," John yawned as he walked out of the bedroom. "Peter your dad is here," he said once he got into Lucian's room.

"He is?" Peter asked from inside his pillow. John told him he was and would have laughed at the groan he was given if he wasn't so tired. "I need help up."

John rubbed his face and pulled the child out of the bed and placed him on his feet. "Come on he's downstairs," he informed him.

They made their way down the stairs using each other for support just in case either one of them would fall asleep, but John was pretty sure if he fell the younger one wouldn't be able to hold him up. "He is very tired so he may fall asleep on the way home," John warned him.

"It's almost eleven how late did he stay up?" his father asked.

"Very late," the doctor told him trying to stifle a yawn. "See ya Peter," John yelled after him. He lay down on the couch keeping his feet away from the thinking detective.

"I thought you were going to sleep," Sherlock stated allowing himself to get distracted for a moment.

"I am, but not in that bedroom," John told him as he shut his eyes.

"Why not?" he asked raising his eyebrows.

John opened his eyes, looked at Sherlock, and then shut them again. "It has it out for me," he stated simply. "Every time I tried to go to sleep something would always wake me up." Sherlock nodded and went back to his thoughts.

"Hey Sherlock you got mail," John said as he came back into the room.

Sherlock grabbed the envelope. His eyes widened as he opened it, inside were a stack of photos and a note. "She's good," Sherlock exclaimed. "She sent me the other set of photos."

The note read: 'Mr. Holmes – I need to speak with you. You can meet me at the address on the envelope, but something may happen, I may die before we get to meet. Of that is so I put the address of the killer you are looking for on the back of this piece of paper. If I am dead you have every right to go and put this killer behind bars, but if I am not I wish to speak with you before you inform the police.'

He went through all the photos; all of them were a clear shot of who he suspected to be the killer. "John do you feel up to fight a serial killer?" he asked as he went over the photos again.

"As long as you call Lestrade first," John told him, he walked back into the living room.

"Already done, let's go," he grabbed John by the arm and dragged him out of the flat. "Mrs. Hudson Lucian is asleep in his room if you can keep an eye on him that would be great." They heard an 'of course' before they exited the building.

"What if he's not in?" John asked as they got out of the cab. Sherlock smirked and just kept silent.

"Hello," Sherlock's deep voice broke the silence of the room.

The man who just noticed the two extra people in the room jumped up from the chair he was sitting in. "Who are you?" he asked, the hand that was reaching for a weapon didn't go unnoticed.

John pulled out his gun, which he carried with him at all times on cases like these, and aimed it at the man. "I wouldn't," he stated calmly.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stared at the man. "Tell me why did you kill all those people? Don't tell me you didn't I have the photos of you doing the deed," he explained.

The man laughed. "So she sent them to you," he asked with a small smile on his face. "Leave it to a daughter to turn in her own father."

"She was your daughter?" Sherlock asked surprised.

The man nodded slowly. "And to answer your other question, I killed all those people for fun. I killed Shay because she got in the way," he told him.

John shook himself as he looked at the man, he could practically see him torturing to people. "So you killed her, you didn't let her go?" Sherlock asked.

"No of course I wouldn't let her leave with pictures of me killing people," the killer said, "that wouldn't be very smart."

Sirens could be heard in the back ground as Lestrade and his men came closer. "Well you did let yourself get followed I figured you weren't very smart to begin with," Sherlock said with a smirk.

The man snarled and lunged towards Sherlock catching him in a headlock. "Are you calling me stupid?" he snarled in his ear.

"Ah," Sherlock eyes widened. "You didn't kill those people just for fun; you killed them because they made fun of you as a child. You decided you wanted to torture them just like they tortured you."

The killed squeezed tightly around Sherlock's neck, the detective squeaked a little at the pressure. John fired his gun just missing the man by a centimeter. "Let him go or I won't miss next time," he warned.

The next moment Lestrade entered the room just as the killer let go of Sherlock. The DI had him on the floor and in cuffs before anything else could be done.

While face down on the floor the killer turned his head to look at Sherlock. "You're right; I killed them because of that. They deserved what they got and I'm glad I killed them," he told him with a smile still on his face as he was being dragged away.

"Are you alright?" John as he helped Sherlock off the floor.

Sherlock looked at him and smiled. "Of course I'm fine," he told him. "Shall we go home? I'm quite tired now."

**Yay I finished, that's good. I've been working on this chapter for days and yesterday I ran out of paper to write in on so I couldn't finish it then. Well I hope you enjoyed this very long chapter. BYE! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey people, I here again because I can't stay away. I don't want to end this story ever, but I know I will eventually have to. That's a downer but oh well I guess I'll have to deal with it going to end soon. Any way I hope you enjoy this chapter. See ya.**

Sherlock stared at their guest as he told them his story. So far all he told them was that his mother's necklace that is very valuable was stolen. It was in his safe that was locked at all times and was in his closet. He claims to be a light sleeper so he would know if someone took it at night while he was asleep and he works from home and rarely leaves the house. He has insurance on it but he would be devastated if he lost his dead mother's only thing left behind after the fire that burned down her house.

"Please Mr. Holmes I'll do anything for your help," Steve River said after he explained every detail he could remember. "I can give you money anything."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and he thought for a moment about what he might be able to get out of this. His eyes slid over to John who was waiting to see if he would take the case. "John," he said calmly, "how would you like to go on that vacation you've been saying you needed?"

"Sherlock I'm not going to use his money to go on a vacation," John told him as he rolled his eyes.

"I'll pay for any expenses for you two to stay at a hotel," Steve informed him, he was very hopeful that that may get the detective in on his case. "I seriously will, I have the money."

John sighed and gave Sherlock a slight nod saying he was okay with it. "Okay I'll go today and search the house see if I can find anything. John you and Lucian can go tomorrow and meet up with me at the hotel," Sherlock told John the plan. "We'll stay as long as it takes me to solve the case."

"Wait what?" John turned to look at the man. "I thought I was going to help you on this case."

Sherlock shook his head and headed toward the door with Steve taking the lead. "It's your vacation remember, but I may need you if things get… difficult," he said. "I'll return with you Mr. River." With that he left John sitting in the living room, feeling a little down.

"Is it safe to come down?" Lucian asked poking his head from the top of the stairs. He's been up there ever since the client arrived. "Hello?" he asked again after getting no response the first time around.

John shook himself free from his thoughts. "Yeah, come on down Lucian," he said as he stood and made his way to the kitchen. "Hey do you want to go on a vacation?"

Lucian flew into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. "When?" he asked excitably.

"Tomorrow," he told him as he started fixing himself a sandwich. "Do you want a sandwich?"

"No, but I do want to go on a vacation," Lucian told him. "Hey where's Sherlock?" he asked like he just noticed the tall man was missing. "Is he going with us?"

John sat down at the relatively clean table and sighed heavily. He stared at his son blinking every now and then before chewing slowly on his sandwich. "Sherlock is on his way to a case, and he's sort of going with us, he'll be working on the case most of the time," he told him after a while. "Now go pack we're leaving in the morning."

"What about my sandwich?" Lucian asked, he just picked up the piece of food and was about to eat it.

"Take it to your room," John said to him. Lucian was half way up the stairs when John yelled, "Don't make a mess… oh who am I kidding he's always going to make a mess." He sighed again and finished off his sandwich.

John and Lucian walked out of their flat and into the warm summer air with bags that had enough cloths for about three days. "So where are we going?" Lucian asked as he grabbed John's hand. John shrugged his shoulders and watched as people passed by.

A black car pulled up in front of them and a driver stepped out of the front. "Are you Dr. Watson?" he asked looking at John, John nodded questionably."Mr. Holmes told me to pick you up and bring you to your destination."

"And where is this destination?" he asked getting into the car anyway. He received no answer and just dropped it. "Mycroft knows where I'm going but I don't that's great," he mumbled to himself before he pulled out a book he was planning on reading while on his vacation.

"Lucian sit right in your seat," John ordered him without even looking up from his page; Lucian frowned and straighten up in his seat.

The car pulled up to a nice looking hotel and the driver got out before opening the door for the two. "Here you are Dr. Watson," he said politely and with a bow he was back in his car and drove off.

John stared up at the large building with amazement, how was he supposed to know where their room was. His mobile dinged signaling he had a text message. '1245 –SH' it read and John laughed. 'Leave it to Sherlock to know when he arrived,' he thought to himself as he entered the large building and took the elevator up to his floor.

They reached their room and John instantly thought about what was wrong with this picture. "No room key," he growled as he kicked the door hoping no one saw.

"Should we go get one at the front desk?" Lucian asked as he tested the knob to see if he could somehow get in.

John shook his head and looked around the small area they were standing in. "No we can just get in when a maid or someone like that comes by," he told him as he leaned up against the wall and slid down. He decided since he had to wait he would shut his eyes and relax just a little.

He woke up when someone was shaking his shoulder, his eyes shot open to see it was just Lucian. "I think there is something under the rug," he told him pointing to a messed up piece of carpet.

John sat up and rubbed his eye and looked to where he was pointing. Sure enough there was a small corner of the carpet up just a little bit, not enough to be seen by someone who was just passing by but to someone who might have been staring at it. He got on his knees and lifted the carpet and saw a room key sitting underneath it. "I hate him," he mumbled but laughed none the less. "Come on buddy let's get settled in."

Lucian jumped into the pool and almost landed on John who was swimming innocently underneath the water. The older man waited for Lucian to reach the surface before launching himself towards him and lifting him out of the water. "Got you!" he yelled as he threw him back in the water.

Lucian resurfaced and swam towards John with a huge smile. "Do that again," he told him as he tried to put himself back into John's arms. John laughed and threw the giggling boy back into the water. "Again, again."

"It looks like you two are having fun," Sherlock's deep voice rose over everyone else's and drew the attention of almost everyone.

John smiled and climbed out of the pool. "What are you doing here?" he asked resisting the urge to hug the lengthy detective.

Sherlock stepped towards him and gave him a huge hug. "I told you I would meet you here wouldn't I?" he told him.

"I'm wet Sherlock," John informed him, Sherlock rolled his eyes, his way of telling him he didn't care. The doctor pulled away. "Yeah but I thought you were on the case and wouldn't be back till tonight."

"I already looked at the house and formed a few theories on what could have happened to the necklace," Sherlock said calmly. "Plus I wanted to see you," he told him, Lucian cleared his throat loudly, "and the little one too."

"Yay!" Lucian squealed as he swam around the pool. "I have people wanting to see me."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat down in a chair close by. "What are you doing?" John asked.

"I'm thinking," Sherlock said staring off into space.

John knew he lost him so he jumped back into the pool splashing water everywhere. "Can you throw me again?" Lucian asked as John came up, he smiled and threw him again.

"Is he your son?" A lady asked as she sat next to John on the stairs of the pool. John smiled and nodded. "He's very cute."

"Thank you," he said to her, he was watching Lucian who was playing with another boy who he assumed was her son. "Is that your son?" he asked just to make sure.

"Yes he is," she told him. "He seems to like your son. My Timothy makes friends where ever he goes."

John laughed and told her, "That's the total opposite of Lucian." She laughed along with him. "He's not afraid to talk to people but he doesn't really want to be friends with them."

"Do you want to play a game?" Timothy asked Lucian as he swam to the edge of the pool.

Lucian turned and looked at him. "What game?" he asked worried.

"It's called Shark," he told him. "It's where you swim in the middle of the pool and I swim under you and drag you down."

Lucian didn't fail to see the evil smile the other kid wasn't trying to hide."I don't want to play," he told him and started to swim towards John. "I told you I don't want to play," he yelled when Timothy tried to grab at his legs. He was pulled under and water got up his nose.

"Oh look they're playing," the lady laughed as she watched Lucian go under.

John stood up; he knew something was going to happen. "I don't think Lucian wants to play," he whispered as he watched everything go down.

Lucian kicked as he choked under water; his eyes were wide open as he tried to look for Timothy. He found him and sent his foot straight for his face, hitting his nose Timothy let go and swam up to the surface.

"He kicked me," he cried as he swam over to his mother who was looking horrified. "Am I bleeding?"

Lucian shot up out of the water gasping for air. "Daddy," he called out trying to catch his breath.

John swam to him carried him over to the stairs. "Are you okay?" he asked.

The lady took that time to start shouting at John. "Is he okay? He viciously attacked my son, he probably has a broken nose," she yelled. "I should call the police."

Sherlock walked up to them and flashed "his" badge at the lady and bent down next to her. "I heard you yelling and I wanted to see what the problem was," he said in the most trusting tone he could find.

The lady smirked like she had the upper hand against John. "Yes officer, his son," she pointed an accusing finger towards the doctor, "kicked my son in the face for no reason."

John saw Sherlock's mouth twitch a little bit before he continued. "Really because I believe I heard this little boy tell your son that he did not want to play. Your son ignored him and pulled this boy under the water and held him under the water till he couldn't breathe so he to kick him to make him let go," he explained to her. "Now I call that self defense. So I would advise this fine young man to call the police on your son. But I don't this he would, he looks to nice for that." The lady shut her mouth and picked up her crying son and marched out of the pool area.

"Are you alright?" John asked again as he carried Lucian out of the pool.

Lucian shook his head, his dark curls hitting John in the face. "I don't want to go swimming anymore," he mumbled into his dad's neck. "Can we go back to the room?"

John nodded and turned to Sherlock. "I thought you stopped pick pocketing Lestrade," he said.

"I did," Sherlock smiled as he showed him the badge. "This is Dimmock's."

"Of course it is," he laughed.

"I could just kiss you," Mr. River claimed as Sherlock handed him back his mother's necklace. The detective was taken aback by that and took a step back. "I won't though. I need to give you something," he told him as he just shook his hand.

"No need to give me anything, but one more favor would be nice," Sherlock said as he looked at the time. Steve told him he would do anything. "I would like it if you watched Lucian for John and me as we go out to dinner."

"Certainly," Steve said as he and Sherlock walked out of his house.

John and Sherlock sat in the back of the cab on their way to some restaurant. "I just don't feel right leaving Lucian with someone we don't know," John spoke his thoughts as Sherlock stared at him.

"Steve will never do anything to Lucian and he may be able to hold his own," Sherlock reassured him, he grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry about it and just have fun tonight okay."

"Fine," John sighed and sat back in his seat.

"So where did you find the necklace?" John asked as they ate their dinner at a surprisingly beautiful restaurant.

Sherlock waved his fork around like he was trying to tell John the story with it. "His banker stole it," he told him after he swallowed.

"Wow," was all John could say.

Sherlock nodded as he finished off his food. "I must admit that was a good meal," he said as he reached into his pocket.

"Hm, they do make good food here don't they," John said as he cleaned his plate. "I don't think I've ever been able to finish a meal in such a long time, especially with you always running off after criminals."

Sherlock laughed and reached across the table settling his hand at the edge of the table. "I guess you're right," he said as he dropped the object that was hidden in fist into John's pocket.

John looked at him confusingly before reaching into his pocket to see what was just placed in it. His fingers wrapped around something, his smile took over his face as he squeezed the small object with all his might.

The next week everyone at the Yard was too busy laughing at Sherlock's sunburn to notice John's shiny new ring.

**Where did that come from? To tell you the truth I have no clue where that came from. Oh I know now, I was getting jealous of all the people trying to ask John out so I had to stop it. Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter I know I did. I'm sleepy now so I'll try and go to sleep. BYE!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I am shaking, and that is probably because of the mountain dew I just drank. Anyway that's not important, what is though it that I got the next chapter up and it's only 1:21 in the morning. Yippee! Okay so I hope you like this upcoming chapter. See ya. **

John lay in the empty bed trying to get up and get ready for his day. He heard the bedroom door creak open, he wished really hard that it was Sherlock but he knew he wouldn't be back till maybe sometime next week. He sat up sleepily and stared at the small figure that was now standing in the doorway. "Hey Lucian what's wrong?" he asked glancing at his clock which read 5:20.

Lucian wiped his nose on his sleeve before answering with a shaky voice, "I had a bad dream." John motioned for him to join him on the bed.

John wrapped his arms around his son and rubbed soothing circles on his back to try and make him stop crying. "What was it about?" he asked knowing it was good to talk about things like this.

"Sherlock never came back," he whispered into John's chest.

The doctor knew how he felt; Sherlock has been gone for almost a month leaving strict instructions that no one was allowed to contact him because it might jeopardized the case he was working on. He only had Mycroft contact him telling he would be home by the end of the month. John was surprised that Sherlock could talk to his brother with how serious the case was, but then again Mycroft had eyes everywhere so that could be how.

"It's been so long what if something happened to him?" Lucian asked interrupting John's thoughts. "Do you think something happened to him?"

"What?" John asked surprised. "No I don't think anything happened to him. Mycroft called remember, he said everything was fine."

"I miss him," Lucian whispered as he wiped his nose again.

"Me too buddy me too," John told him as he ran his fingers through his hair. He kissed the top of his messy hair and carried him into the kitchen. "How about we get some food into you?" The six years old nodded and rested his head on John's shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay."

Later that morning John carried Lucian, who had fallen asleep sitting on the toilet watching John as he shaved, down the stairs to Mrs. Hudson's door. To John's surprise there was a note taped to the door saying that their landlady has stepped out and won't be back till later that night.

John sighed and almost banged his head up against the wall. Instead he pulled out his phone and dialed his works number. "Hey Sarah, it's John," he said quickly.

"Oh hello John what is it?" she asked politely.

"I can't come into today," he told her. "The babysitter is away and I have no one else to watch Lucian."

"What you can't get you psychopathic boyfriend to watch him," she muttered. "Okay John I'll cover for you today." She didn't sound too happy.

John resisted the urge to correct her with 'he's a sociopath' but since she said she would take his shift he decided it would be best not to ruin things. "Thank you Sarah, I'll be in tomorrow for sure," he said happy to have a day off. He hung up and went back up the stairs.

Lucian rubbed his tired eyes as he resituated himself on top of John. "Daddy," he yawned burying himself back into the doctor's neck.

"Hm," a half asleep John said not even opening his eyes.

"You're warm," Lucian mumbled.

"Lovely," John said wrapping his arms around the smaller body. "Are you hungry?" he asked stifling a yawn.

"A little," he admitted but made no move to get up. "Can we go out to eat?"

"Do you think Angelo would let us eat free even though Sherlock isn't with us?" John asked laughing a little.

Lucian shrugged and lifted his head. "We should find out," he told him.

They walked out of the flat, both missing the strange figure lingering in the shadows of the alley way.

Lunch at Angelo's been delicious and free so life was good for the two Watsons. They decided after their meal they would take a walk in the park before heading back to 221 b.

In the park Lucian stopped by a tree and sat down. John smiled and sat next to him; the sun shined down on them through the trees and warmed them up quite a bit. "So Lucian how is your day so far?" John asked as he watched the younger one examine a leaf.

"Well I slept a lot," he laughed. He threw the leaf up into the air and the wind caught it blowing it out of reach, Lucian's frown, made John want to hug him. "Do you think I can be a super hero when I grow up like you and Sherlock?"

John was surprised by the question but recovered. "Sherlock and I aren't super heroes, we're just normal people who do the right thing," he told him. "Well at least I'm a normal person; Sherlock I still believe is an alien."

Lucian fell over giggling at John's comment, the doctor joining him.

"Well look at this," Lestrade said strolling up to the two. "What are you two doing out here?"

John's giggles died down a little as he wiped his eyes and looked up at the DI. "Oh hello Lestrade, we're enjoying a nice stroll through the park laughing about Sherlock. You know the usual," he told him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just getting coffee, it's my lunch break," he explained with a smile. "Hey little guy. How's it hanging?"

Lucian looked at him questionably. "I'm not hanging anywhere," he said seriously.

John laughed at his response. "He is nothing like the youth of today," Lestrade mumbled. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well," he said straitening up his posture. "How are you?"

"I great," he answered back, and then checked his watch. "Well I have to get going back to the office. See ya." The two waved good bye and watched him leave.

John held onto Lucian's hand and lifted him up from the ground. "We should get going too," he told him and they started walking home.

On the outside of the flat everything looked like it was fine, that was the total opposite on the inside. It was like the living room was turned upside down and shaken violently. John's first reaction was to protect Lucian. He reached for his gun that was in his jacket that was hanging close behind. After a thorough search he knew no one was in there except Lucian and himself.

With his gun still in his hand he looked to see if anything was missing, nothing seemed to have been stolen, but a lot of things were broken. He looked at the coffee table and saw a small little blue paper. He walked cautiously over to it glancing back to his son to see if he was alright, he picked up the note and read it.

'_I'm coming for you –M'_

John dropped the note to the floor and ran to grab Lucian. Picking up the light boy and carrying him to the bed room. Slowly he opened the door, gun ready to shoot and kill, and checked inside. Everything looked safe but he had to make sure. "Stay there and don't move a muscle," he ordered, Lucian practically stopped breathing just in case it would set something off.

John tripled checked every surface in the room before settling down on the bed and motioning Lucian to come to him. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the only person that he knew he could rely on right now. "Mycroft," he said into the phone once the other man picked up, "there was a man here earlier today."

"Yes John I am aware of that," he told him. "We are working on figuring out who it right now, but that is going to be hard because he didn't show his face to any of the cameras." There was a long silence where no one said anything. "Are you two okay?" Mycroft asked quietly.

"Yes for now," John answered squeezing Lucian in his arms. "Moriarty is back and he sent one of his men to our flat, completely ruined the living room just to leave a note."

"Don't worry John," he said. "I have someone watching your building now."

It reassured John a little bit but not enough. Last time he was kidnapped right in front of those cameras Mycroft was so proud of. "Thank you," he said before hanging up and dropping the phone.

"Moriarty's back?" Lucian asked holding on tight to John's shirt. The doctor nodded and lifted the child up and walked into the living room.

"We might as well clean up," he said looking at the mess. He looked at their television and groaned there was a hole on the screen. "Guess we're going to have and get a new one…again."

John had one arm draped over Lucian and the other lightly touching the gun he had under his pillow. He hasn't been able to sleep a full night all week because every noise made him alert and ready for action. He carried his gun with him almost everywhere now just in case and he made sure to check up on Lucian every half hour to make sure he was fine. He kept the blue note with him always to as a constant reminder that their greatest enemy was out there still and ready to strike too.

He heard a small creak outside the bedroom door and his eyes shot open. He grip tighten on his gun as he waited for the noise to enter his room. The door opened ever so slowly and all John could see was the silhouette of the person. The shadow's hand reached for the switch and turned on the light. John pulled his gun out and aimed it at the man about to shoot.

"Is this how you're going to great me after such a long time?" Sherlock's deep voice stopped John's finger that was so close to pulling the trigger.

John placed his gun down and climbed out of the bed waking Lucian in the process. "Sherlock," John sighed heavily. "I thought you were coming back next week, and what happened to your arm?" He pulled himself apart from the detective and looked at the arm in the cast.

"The criminals found out I was undercover and sort of broke it before the police could arrive," he explained. "Why are you sleeping with your gun?"

John remembered the threat and pulled the blue note out of his pants pocket and handed it to him. Lucian was out of the bed by this time clutching to Sherlock's leg.

Sherlock read the note and was silent for what seemed like forever. "I take it that's why Mycroft's man is taking lodgings across the street," was all he could say.

Lucian tugged his hand and Sherlock bent down to pick him up. The six years old hugged him tight not wanting to let go. "I'm scared," he whispered.

Sherlock looked up at John and locked him with an intense gaze. "Don't be I won't let anything happen to you," he told him then added, "to both of you."

**Hey guys I see you read the chapter or you just skipped down to this. I don't know but that doesn't matter, but what does matter is did you guys like the chapter? I did… a lot. I had no clue how to write it though but oh well. So Moriarty, who I made totally crazy I mean come on cat trinkets make fun of him how much crazier can you get. Okay I guess that's all I need to say now. BYE!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey guys, I'm back. This story will only continue for three more chapters, this one and two others. I have all the chapters written out all I have to do is type them up and maybe change a few things. I just wanted you guys to know what was coming. I hope you enjoy because I spent two weeks writing these things. See ya. **

Sherlock pulled a hyperactive child behind him as he took the long walk to the Yard. He would have left him with their landlady but figured Lucian needed to get out of the flat for a bit. If he didn't take the six years old out then someone would get hurt, most likely himself.

"Lucian will you stop doing that?" Sherlock asked annoyed as the other used his arm as a swing.

Lucian set his feet down onto the ground firmly. "I'm sorry, I'm just bored," he huffed.

"Aren't we all," Sherlock mumbled.

At Scotland Yard Sherlock ordered Lucian to stay seated till they were ready to leave. Lucian obeyed and sat on the chair swinging his legs as he watched everyone do their job.

"What are you doing here?" Anderson said in his ever annoying voice.

"Well Mr. Anderson," Lucian started, "I'm here with Sherlock, while he finishes a case you were too stupid to figure out."

Donovan stopped right behind Anderson with her jaw hanging. "What did you just say?" she asked shocked.

"I believe he just called Anderson stupid," Sherlock stated smugly. "He does have a thing for telling the truth, I think he gets it from John. Let's go Lucian we should get home I have some things to work on." He grabbed the small boys hand proudly and walked out of the building.

"You have to admit that was a little bit funny," Donovan laughed as she watched them go, along with Anderson who looked like a fish.

Anderson turned his fish face towards his co-worker and stared at her. "Funny? How was that funny? He's two and he's calling people stupid, I call that bad parenting," he ranted.

Sally patted his back. "He's nice to me," she told him.

"I bet the psychopath teaches him to hate me," he snarled before getting back to work.

"I have food," John announced as he entered the flat. He placed the cartons down on the coffee table and gave Sherlock, who just walked into the room, a kiss. "Where's Lucian?"

Sherlock pointed to the closet door but said, "I don't know."

John nodded, sat down and started eating. "Well you better hurry up and find him, he needs to eat," he told him.

Sherlock nodded and walked over to the closet. He opened the door quickly and Lucian fell out and hit the floor. "Dinner time," he said and went to go eat.

"Nice," John mumbled around his fork.

Lucian sat at the top of the stairs with a bouncy ball in his hand. "Mrs. Hudson are you ready?" he called to their landlady who was waiting down by the door to see if the small ball will go out of the mail slot.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she yelled back up to him.

He threw the ball and it bounced off the wall right where he wanted it to. It bounced down the other set of stairs, and he was after it. He was just in time to see the ball bounce off the floor and through the slot.

He jumped up in excitement and ran down the stairs. "Did you see that?" he cried. "I did it Mrs. Hudson." He hugged the older lady tightly.

"Yes you did," she said proudly.

"I'm going to go get it," he told her as he walked out the door.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and turned around before what the child did hit her. She turned around quickly forgetting was she was doing and opened the door.

John and Sherlock were on their way to a crime scene. The scene was a ways away so they had to take a cab.

"What did Lestrade tell you about the case?" John asked after a few minutes of silence.

"It was Dimmock who called," he informed him, "and he didn't have much to say, only that the body was missing his head, both legs and both arms, with a message carved into his chest."

The cabbie looked back at them worryingly but the two ignored him because they made it to the scene.

"Mr. Holmes," Dimmock said as he came out of the building. "You have little time to check out the scene."

When John stepped into the room he couldn't take his eyes off the torso that was hanging in the middle of the room by a metal hook. As the detective told him, on the chest was a message which read: 'Gotcha'

"It was clearly a revenge hit," said Anderson as he walked into the crime scene after them.

"Shut up Anderson," Sherlock snapped as he examined the torso close up. He looked at the stubs where the poor man's limbs used to be.

"This is defiantly not done by a surgeon," John stated as he examined the body. 'What's this?' he asked himself as he saw raised skin on his back. As he went around getting a better look his breath caught in his throat and he felt like he was going to puke. He choked out, "Sherlock."

"What?" Sherlock as and John turned the body on the hook to face him. On the back was a perfectly carved 'M'. "Moriarty," he whispered.

"We're both safe, what does he mean by gotc-," John trailed off as he put the pieces together. He was out of the house before anyone could as what was wrong.

Of course Sherlock didn't need to be told what was wrong and was running out right after him.

John didn't dare take a cab knowing in this traffic he could make it to Baker Street faster on foot.

He couldn't hear the people that shouted at him as he almost ran into them, or the cars that blared their horns as he crossed their path on the streets. All he could hear was his son screaming for him.

John came to a stop in front of 221 B and saw Mrs. Hudson crying on the steps trying to call someone. His world came crashing down, he was too late.

Mrs. Hudson stood up from the step she was sitting on and shakily put away her phone. "I turned around for a second and he walked outside," she cried. "I tried to stop him but he was gone the moment I opened the door."

John took in many deep breaths but it felt like he was breathing through a thin straw that only had one opening. Anger was coursing through his veins and he needed to release it, and the man in the suit walking across the street was just the one. "I thought you were supposed to watch the flat and make sure we were safe," he yelled getting up into the taller man's face.

The man took a step back from the ex army doctor. "I was sir. I couldn't get out here quick enough, but I got the plate number of the car. I saw the kidnappers face and it was the man you guys were looking for, James Moriarty," he told him. "The boy was drugged and pulled into a car.

John nodded, and bit his lip. He looked back up to the man and pulled back his fist and slammed into the other's face. Sherlock pulled him back and held him around the waist. "That's for not being able to protect my son!" he spat, he was yelling at himself for not being able to protect Lucian.

A sleek black car pulled up and Mycroft stepped out with his umbrella in hand. "Clark called, told me the news," he started. "The cameras were all off line when the incident happened. I'm sorry."

John leaned into Sherlock like he was a wall. His legs felt welt as he plopped his head on the others chest. He could feel Sherlock yelling at his brother for being useless and he blocked out all sound.

**Well I hoped you like the chapter. I hope it's up to your standards and all that cool stuff. Well I'm going to get going. BYE!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey guys second to last chapter here, how are you doing? I hope you liked the last chapter, and I hope you like this chapter. It originally was going to be the last chapter but it got way to long so I broke it up. I'll let you get to the reading part which you all really want. See ya.**

Lucian woke up and started to panic. He was tied by the wrist and ankles to a chair and he was blindfolded. He felt like he was spinning and he had the feeling he was going to be sick at any moment. He shook his head and tried to calm himself down.

"Oh you're awake," came a chilling voice. The voice made everything worse and Lucian threw up. "Look what you did," he shouted slamming his hands down onto the table that was now filthy.

Lucian started crying. "I'm sorry," he sobbed to scared to do anything else.

Moriarty stood and started to remove the newspaper clippings from the table. "Do you know why you're here?" Lucian didn't answer as he continued to cry. "Answer me! Do you know why I need you?" he asked getting up close.

"I don't know," Lucian cried as he felt the others breathe hit his face. "I'm only six how am I supposed to know?"

Moriarty laughed at how pathetic the little boy looked. "That's right you are only six aren't you?" he asked pretending to be nice. Then he slammed his hand down onto the table and yelled again, "You do know!" Lucian shook his head trying to block out the scary voice. "Tell me," he whispered into his ear.

Lucian backed away from the noise, and then he took in a shaky breath. "You're using me to get to Sherlock," he told him. "It's not going to work, you're stupid for trying." He felt cold metal slide onto his temple. He flinched away and cried, "I just want to go home."

Moriarty almost pulled back but didn't, he pressed it further into his head. "Well then you better hope Sherlock finds out where you are before I kill you," he told him easily. He twitched when he heard the trinkets start laughing at him.

"_You wouldn't kill him."_

"Sherlock would waste his time on finding me when there is an interesting case," he explained to him sadly.

John sat on the couch staring at the coffee table. He felt so useless not knowing what to do, he wasn't like Sherlock who could take practically anything and analyze it, or Mycroft who ran the British government and could most likely find out anything. No, he was just plain old John who could just sit on the couch and stare at the table.

"John," Sherlock said from the kitchen.

John's head snapped up and was by his side quickly. "What do you need?"

Sherlock looked up from his microscope. "I need you to go to sleep," he told him. "There is no reason for you to be up at this time."

John clenched his fist and shook his head. "Tell me again what you're planning to do?" he asked slightly angry with Sherlock for telling him to go to sleep.

"I'm looking through the evidence that I could get in hopes that we can find the killer and maybe he can lead us to Moriarty," he explained.

"The chances of that are?" John asked rubbing his face.

"Very slim," the detective simply said.

John grinded his teeth together. "Then why are you doing this?" he asked annoyed.

"To pass the time," Sherlock told him. "To do something. We're talking about Moriarty here, we'll get nowhere till he contacts us somehow. Now go to sleep," he ordered again.

John calmed himself down and nodded. "I'll be in the room if you do find anything," he sighed and walked out of the kitchen.

The moment he heard the soft click of the bedroom door closing he let his shoulders relax. He could drop the façade of not caring for now, it was his turn to break down if just a little. He was angry, angry with himself, Mycroft, and the people that just passed by as Lucian was being kidnapped. Most of all he was angry with Moriarty, and a little bit scared, scared of what the madman could do to Lucian, what he most likely will do.

When it was John it was different, not to different, but at least he was there to know what was happening to John and make sure nothing would happen to him. In this situation he had no clue what Moriarty's next move was, he didn't know if Lucian had a bomb strapped to his chest or if he was hurt.

He placed his head in his hands and tried to calm himself down. "Sherlock?" John asked from the doorframe. Sherlock straightened his self up and rolled his shoulders trying not to look like he was hurt. "Come on let's go lay down."

Neither of them slept, they just lay there together. Both of their minds were clogged with dangerous thoughts.

Lucian's head rolled onto his chest making him jolt awake again. That's been happening all night. "Please Mr. Moriarty," he croaked; his throat was sore from crying. "Please just let me leave."

Moriarty laughed and watched as the young boys head swayed from side to side. "Where's the fun in that?" he asked. "I need you here for our little game. Now it's time to eat."

Lucian paled, he wasn't sure eating anything this man gave him was safe. "I'm not hungry," he lied.

"Come on, we don't want your daddy to think that you weren't well fed when you were in my care do you?" he asked. "But then of course I don't think he'll be thinking about that when he sees you dead." He forced the oatmeal into his mouth and made Lucian swallow it. "Good boy."

Moriarty walked into the kitchen after the drugs he put in the food to effect on Lucian. He hit his hand on the counter and winced, he looked down at the small cut on his hand that he got when he was sawing off the man's limbs for Sherlock. It was a nice cut in between his forefinger and his thumb. It didn't bleed much and he was wearing gloves at the scene so he was pretty sure none of his blood was left at the crime scene.

Sherlock leaned over the torso and examined it closer than before. "What did he die of?" he asked Molly.

John's jaw dropped. "What do you mean Sherlock? Isn't it obvious what he died of?"

"Heart attack," Molly told him after John's outburst.

Sherlock smiled. "That means that our killer isn't really a killer. He got a hold of this body and chopped it up for our pleasure," he said out loud. "Now all we have to do is find out who this man is then maybe we can find the butcher."

The computer made a noise signaling to everyone that the results were ready.

Moriarty sat across from the six years old watching him as he slowly woke up. "You know that DI friend of yours?" he asked.

Lucian groggily lifted his head in the direction of the voice. "What about him?" he asked.

Moriarty asked and leaned a little closer. "I killed him," he whispered, "and his family." He laughed manically.

Lucian took and intake of breath and almost started crying again. "No," he let out.

"Yes!" the psychopath yelled like he was telling a good story. "You should have seen his wife and son's faces, as I hung them in the boy's room."

"Stop," Lucian whispered.

"Did you know she was having a baby, oh she loved to talk about it as I strung up her son," he laughed, "she screamed about it."

"Stop!" Lucian yelled as tears ran down his face.

"No!" Moriarty slammed his hands down on the table. "Lestrade saw his wife and child; I came out and shot him as he cried at their feet."

"Please stop," Lucian cried as he pictured the scene. "Just stop."

Sherlock smiled at their break through. "We have two different blood types here, one is for our corpse, Mr. Rose, and the other is still searching," he said. "This may be easier than we expected if our man is in the data base."

Molly and John stood back and watched the detective work. "Sorry about…" she trailed off, regretting that she started without remembering the boy's name.

"Lucian," John told her slightly annoyed, "and thank you. I just hope we can get to him before anything bad could happen, you know?"

"Yeah," Molly sighed. "Well I better get back to work. Good luck."

John waved bye and continued to watch. "I'm tired," he told him yawning, and he added, "And I want my son back."

Sherlock turned from the screen and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you do and I'm doing the best I can with what we have," he told him.

"I love you," he sighed.

"I love you too," Sherlock said. "Now I need to get back to work."

A few hours later John was in a fitful sleep and Sherlock was looking at some evidence. The computer dinged again. Sherlock walked over to it and looked at the screen. "Moriarty's our butcher," he stated smoothly.

"What? But he doesn't like to get his hands dirty," he pointed out.

"I know," he said grabbing his phone. "We're going to Scotland Yard, come on."

"Why are we going to the police," John asked following him. "That doesn't sound like you either."

"I just got a text from Dimmock that said he had some very important information," he explained.

"What are you doing here?" Lucian asked after several hours of silence.

Moriarty looked up from his gun. "I already told you, I'm luring out Sherlock," he told him.

Lucian shook his head and laid it over the back of the chair. "No I mean why are you after Sherlock? You couldn't kill him at the pool, what makes you think you can kill him now?" he asked tiredly.

"What do you mean I couldn't kill him at the pool?" Moriarty asked. "He was trying to kill me."

"No, you strapped a bomb to my father and tried to kill them both," he told him. "You're an evil man."

Moriarty slammed his hands down on the table and yelled, "Sherlock Holmes is an evil man!"

"Who's holding the gun?" Lucian asked.

"Shut up!" Moriarty yelled as he stood up. "I had enough of you. I think you just want to die."

Again Lucian felt the cold metal of the hand gun touch his head. He started to tremble and his breath quickened. He licked his lips, he knew he needed to say what he wanted to and soon. "You won't kill me," he whispered just loud enough for Moriarty to hear. He swallowed hard when he heard a small click.

**Holy crap. That's all I can say right now. I hope you guys liked the chapter, and sorry about how Moriarty is here. BYE! **


	21. Chapter 21

**LAST CHAPTER! Well isn't this exciting? I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others. This chapter actually kept me up at night trying to think about what I was going to do for it. So my lovely readers here you are, what you all have been waiting for. See ya.**

Sherlock and John stared at the little screen in front of them. "How come we're just seeing this now?" John asked watching the video play back again angrily.

Dimmock swallowed. "We didn't have this till it was sent to us today," he explained. "We personally thought the cameras were all destroyed around the pool, so we didn't check them out earlier."

"Useless," Sherlock growled. "The police are useless."

"How come Mycroft didn't show us this then?" John asked. "He should have shown us these months ago."

"I don't know why he never showed it to us. But it was him who sent them, or this is some clue Moriarty is giving us. Most likely Mycroft." said Sherlock glaring at the screen. "Zoom in on the two faces," he ordered.

The tech did as he was told and zoomed in on the two people walking into the pool after the bomb went off. "Moriarty may be smart but he knows how to hire the most idiotic people," Sherlock mumbled.

"What we going to do now?" John asked as they walked out of the building.

Sherlock gave Dimmock instructions to look for the two people who showed their faces to the cameras. "We are going to get some ice cream," he told him with a smile as they got into the cab.

"What does ice cream have to do with this case?" John asked.

"I recognized one of those men in the video," Sherlock explained. "He works at the ice cream shop I sometimes bring Lucian to. We are going to ask him some questions." John nodded in understanding.

Lucian sat there and waited to see what the man holding the gun was going to do. He almost started crying again afraid of his plan not working and he'll die soon. He didn't want to die, I don't think any six years old would want to die but not many of them had a gun pointed at their heads.

"I'll kill you, I'll blow your brains across the wall," Moriarty hissed.

"_No you won't."_

"Shut up," Moriarty whispered harshly but the voices kept singing.

"_No you won't, no you won't."_

"Shut up!" Moriarty yelled. "I will kill him!"

Lucian cringed as he yelled to someone else.

They laughed at him. _"You can't kill him. You don't have the guts to kill him."_

Moriarty seized Lucian around his neck and dug the gun into his temple. "I'm going to kill him right now," he yelled at the trinkets. "You'll see!"

Lucian started crying; he was scared and wanted to go home. He was pretty sure he was going to die, and moments in his life played in his mind. The last walk he took with his mother before she got sick, the times John calmed him down after a really bad nightmare, or the many times he stayed up with Sherlock and watched him do experiments. He was going to miss everything. "Please don't kill me," he cried to him.

"_Mr. Moriarty can't kill a little baby."_

Lucian felt Moriarty let go of him, and the gun left his head. He heard him mumble to himself, and then out of nowhere he started firing of his gun. Lucian squeezed his eyes shut and kept his head down.

The sound of the gun filled the room along with Moriarty's yelling. They didn't stop for such a long time and when they did Moriarty screamed, "I can!"

Lucian wanted to yell as one more shot rang out and he felt something hit the back of his head.

Everything was silent, that was the scariest part, and not even the sound of anyone breathing broke it.

"Help!" Lucian cried out after a long time, sick of the deafening silence. "Somebody help me."

"I don't see him," Sherlock said as he glanced around the room. They walked up to the counter after waiting in line for a while. "Hello is Jonathan here?"

"No today is his day off," the cashier said clearly annoyed with her job. "Now would you like some ice cream?"

Sherlock shook his head. "Do you know where he is?" he asked.

"My guess would be his house," she told him. "If you don't want to buy anything I'm going to have to ask you to move over."

Sherlock and John didn't budge. "Do you know his address?" John asked trying to get somewhere.

The cashier glared at them and grinded her teeth. "I don't know anything about the guy okay. Will you leave now?"

"What's wrong Mary?" a guy asked coming out of a door from the back.

Mary sighed. "Nothing, these two are just looking for Jonathan," she told him.

The guy looked and John and Sherlock and nodded. "You two follow me," he ordered and walked back to the room that he came out of. "So you two are looking for Jonathan?"

"Yes, it's for a police investigation," Sherlock told him.

"What did he do?" he asked.

"We suspect he was involved in a robbery," Sherlock lied. "We were wondering if you can give us his address."

The guy thought for a moment before nodding. "I knew he was no good from the start. I'll give you his address," he said scribbling something down onto a paper. "Here."

"Thank you," John said grabbing the slip of paper.

The guy smiled. "Just happy to help," he said.

"Excellent," Sherlock sighed.

"Help!" Lucian screamed for what seemed like the hundredth time since Moriarty shot himself four hours earlier. "Someone help!" He couldn't understand why nobody could hear the shots, or his screaming. It didn't make any sense at all.

John rubbed his hands together frantically as he stared out of the cab window. He didn't know if the guy they were going to see would lead them to Lucian or not and that set him on edge. He felt a cold hand grab his. He looked over at Sherlock and tried to smile.

"I'm going to find him John," he told him. "Even if it takes forever, I'll find him and he'll be fine."

John nodded and squeezed his hand tight. "I know you will," he choked out.

They pulled up to the little house and got out. The two walked up to the front door and knocked.

The door opened just a crack and Jonathan had to squint his eyes to the searing sun. "What do you want?" he asked groggily.

"Jonathan we're to ask you some questions," Sherlock told him.

The guy looked panicked as his eyes darted between Sherlock and John. Thoughts raced through his mind before one stopped and presented itself to him. The thought was, 'I've seen this man before,' then, 'he is Sherlock Holmes,' and as he thought that thought he bolted into the house slamming the door in the other's faces.

"I am not in the mood for this," John growled as he pushed open the door. They were just in time to see Jonathan run out of the back door clad just in boxers.

They followed him through backyards of other families and before they knew it they were running thought alley ways. John followed Sherlock making sure he wouldn't get lost.

Sherlock started to slow down until he was jogging next to John. "Keep an eye on him," he told him before disappearing down another alley way.

John did what he was told and kept following him. But when he turned a sharp corner John was sure he was about to lose him. He rounded the same corner and saw Sherlock tackle him to the ground.

"Get off me," Jonathan yelped as his face scrapped against the ground. "I'm nobody you don't want me."

Sherlock dug his knee into his back. "You're right I don't want you I want Moriarty, but I need you to help me find him," he told him. "Tell me what you did with him after the pool."

"I'll never tell you," he spat.

Sherlock leaned down close to the other's ear. "My friend over there is carrying a gun, I don't think you want him to have to use it do you?" Jonathan shook his head as best as he could. "Good, now what did you do with Moriarty?"

"This other guy and I took him to Hope Hospital and gave him a folder," he told him. "We signed him in under a different name though."

"What name?" Sherlock asked pushing a little harder.

"D-David Smith," Jonathan stuttered.

Sherlock smiled and got up off his back. The guy scrambled away not even giving the two a second glance. John huffed and turned to Sherlock. "I forgot my gun at home Sherlock," he told him.

"Oh did you?" Sherlock asked like he really didn't know. "Shall we go to the hospital?"

"Daddy," Lucian cried through a sore throat. His wrist hurt from pulling at them trying to get them loose and he was pretty sure they were bleeding. "Please hurry."

"We can't give you that information sir," the nurse told Sherlock and John. "That's doctor patient confidentiality."

"This man is very important to a police investigation," Sherlock informed her. "If you don't give us the address, you'll be letting him go free."

"I'm sorry but I can't just let you have that," the nurse told him sternly. "Now if you don't mind please step away from the counter."

John sighed and started walking away. Once he noticed Sherlock wasn't with him he turned around. The detective was still at the counter, staring at the nurse in front of him.

"Listen here," Sherlock growled. "This man has got my son hostage, and you are the only thing standing in our way of finding him!" Sherlock yelled as he slammed his hands down in front of him.

The nurse opened her mouth to say something but someone else stepped in. "If you two will follow me," the man said sternly. "I'll take care of them Janet."

Sherlock smiled towards John and motioned for him to follow. "Why did you do that?" John whispered once he caught up with the taller man.

"Well the nurse looked like he wanted to help, but he needed something to make him help," Sherlock explained.

"So you told them Lucian was your son?" John asked stepping into the room.

"Well he practically is," Sherlock smiled over to him and turned back to the nurse.

"This is what you're looking for isn't it," he held out the paper. "It's his address. When he came in it looked like he was just blown up." He laughed.

"That's because he was," Sherlock told him and grabbed the paper. "Come along John we're going."

The cab pulled up outside of 221 B and the two got out. Sherlock told the driver to wait for them outside. "Why are we home?" John asked.

"Your gun John, remember you forgot it," Sherlock said and ushered him into the flat. "Now hurry up and get it. We might need it later on."

John nodded and went straight to the bedroom. "Let's go get him," he said once he emerged from the room.

Lucian took in a huge deep breaths trying to stop himself from crying. It was hurting his head and making his blindfold irritate his skin. He stopped screaming for help hours ago knowing now that no one could heard him.

He decided to do the next best thing and tried to go to sleep again. He laid his head on the back of the chair, his neck hurt him and the smell of blood was thick in the air, that combination didn't help him on his journey to sleep.

He heard the doorknob wiggle and his head shot up. "Help!" he screamed the happiest he felt ever.

John watched Sherlock fiddle with the lock of the old door. They weren't expecting Moriarty to have Lucian at his flat sitting in the middle of his living room, but they were hoping to find some hint at where he could be.

All of a sudden Sherlock stopped and just stared at the door. "What's wro-"John started.

"Shh, I think I hear someone on the inside," Sherlock whispered. "Get your gun ready."

John nodded and slid his gun out. Sherlock got the door unlocked; he nodded towards John and opened the door slowly.

The sight that hit them was defiantly not something they were expecting. Moriarty was lying in a pool of what they were hoping his own blood, glass covered the floor, and Lucian, poor Lucian, was tied up to a chair and was blindfolded.

"Lucian," John sighed as he hid his gun in his waist band and ran to the boy's side.

"Daddy," Lucian cried as he heard his father's voice.

"Are you okay?" John asked frantically as he untied him.

"I'm fine," Lucian told him.

Sherlock walked around behind him and put his hands on Lucian's shoulders. "I'm going to untie your blindfold now, what I want you to do is keep you face hidden in John's shoulder. Can you do that for me?" he asked getting ready. Lucian nodded and Sherlock untied the black blindfold and Lucian practically attacked John.

"At least we know he won't be playing more games," John said to Sherlock as he walked out.

Sherlock nodded and stayed behind. "I must say Moriarty," he said to the corpses, "killing yourself, that's rather dull isn't it?" He laughed and looked around the room some more.

Lucian started crying once he was sitting outside with John. "I was scared," he told him from his shoulder.

"I know you were," John told him rubbing circles on his back. "To tell you the truth I was scared too."

Lucian hugged him tighter. "I'm sorry I ran out into the street with Mrs. Hudson," he whispered.

John laughed softly. "It's not your fault that this happened, you don't have to be sorry," he said to him.

"Let's go home you two," Sherlock said as he exited the building.

John nodded and stood up. "I'm pretty sure you're really tired," he said.

Lucian nodded and laid his head down on his shoulder. He shut his eyes, and then at that second he remembered something. 'Lestrade,' he thought. He needed to tell John and Sherlock if they didn't already know. He buried his head deep into John's shoulder and started crying harder; he didn't want to do it.

"Hey, how's the little guy doing?"

Lucian's head shot up and he whipped it around to Lestrade who was walking towards them. "Lestrade you're alive!" he yelled jumping from John's arms and into Lestrade's. "I'm so happy."

Lestrade held onto the small boy and gave Sherlock and John a weird look. "Why wouldn't I be alive?" he asked as John gave him a shrug.

Lucian wiped his eyes and frowned a little. "Moriarty said he killed you and your family," he told him.

Lestrade paled. "No he didn't I'm safe, everyone is safe," he reassured him. "Here go back to your dad."

John took Lucian back. "We're just going home Lestrade," he said with a smile. "I'm so glad you're okay. See ya."

"I'm going to check out the crime scene. Bye," Lestrade said and walked into the building.

When they got home Mrs. Hudson could barely contain herself as she started crying and showering Lucian with kisses, she kept apologizing to them till they shut their door.

For a few months after the incident Lucian wouldn't sleep alone if he slept at all. He couldn't stand the dark and would jump at any loud noise. Over the past few weeks he's been getting better. He only slept with John if he had a nightmare. He only jumped at noise that sounded like gun shots, or are gun shots thanks to Sherlock and his ongoing grudge against the wall.

"Lucian wake up," John said as he shook the child lightly.

"Why," Lucian groaned rolling over on his stomach.

"Because I have breakfast ready for you," John told him. "Oh we also have a package."

Lucian lifted his head and smiled. He rolled out of the big bed and shuffled out of the room after John. "Who is the package from?" he asked grabbing a slice of toast of the counter.

"Your grandmother I believe," John said. "Sherlock have some toast."

"Not hungry," Sherlock simply said as he lay on the couch.

Lucian sat on the floor leaning up against the couch. "Sorry about last night Sherlock," he said with his head down.

"Of course," Sherlock said looking down at him. Lucian cringed more once he saw the black eye the detective now had. "I enjoy you hitting me in the face," he said sarcastically.

"Sherlock," John warned sternly.

Sherlock sighed and sat up. "It's okay Lucian; I know you're still trouble by what happened. It's just that when you attacked me in your sleep, well you know what happened," he told him.

"You are really bad at this aren't you?" John asked sitting down next to the detective.

"Can we see what's in the package?" Lucian asked.

"Fine," John sighed. He opened the package and on top of what looked like movies was note. "'John I'm sorry I was late on sending all the videos of Lucian when he was younger. They were hidden in the storage room. I hope you enjoy them.'"

"Videos of me," Lucian cheered happily. "Let's watch them."

"Alright," John smiled and grabbed one of the tapes and popped it into the VCR. Lucian giggled and clapped his hands.

"_Lucian what are you doing?" Cynthia asked as she sat next to him._

"_Coloring," Lucian told her not looking up from his paper._

"_Yes I know that," she told him._

"_Then why did you asked?" Lucian questioned._

_Cynthia looked up at the camera and laughed. "Do you know who he reminds me of?" she asked._

"_Sherlock?" another woman's voice asked from behind the camera._

_Cynthia made a weird face and shook her head frantically. "Oh god no, he reminds me of John," she told her. "Hear that Lucian you are just like your daddy, not Sherlock."_

_Lucian giggled. "Daddy," he clapped his hands together. "Daddy and Sherlock," he giggled himself silly with that._

"_No just daddy," she laughed. "Just imagine if those two ever meet. John with his military sternness and Sherlock with his…I don't know what he has."_

_The other lady laughed. "That would be a sight to see," she admitted._

"_I bet within ten minutes of being in the same room one if not both of them would kill the other," she said._

"Well she got that wrong," Sherlock stated turning to John.

John smirked. "Shut up my one sided raccoon," he said and pulled Sherlock into a kiss.

"Eww," Lucian said from the floor.

John pulled away. "Come here you," he said lifting Lucian into his lap. "I love you guys."

"I love you too daddy," Lucian said snuggling closer into his chest.

Sherlock smiled and grabbed the other's hand and said, "I love you more."

**I did guys. I finished my first chapter story ever. I feel accomplished. Can you all join me in this victorious happy dance? Oh and I just want to thank everyone who commented, alerted, favorite, or even read it. I truly love you all. I don't think I can feel any better that this right now. Well I hoped you enjoyed the chapter, and the story, I know I have. Also I don't know what else I'm going to do with myself after this, so if you guys have ideas for me I'll take them. BYE! **


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